


The Marshmallow Fluff Club

by jessamurphy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, First Dates, Fluff, Getting Together, Holding Hands, Holidays, Ice Rinks, Ice Skating, Interior Decorating, Kissing, Knitting, M/M, Movie Night, Multi, Pet Names, Pizza, Platonic Cuddling, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Snow, Snowball Fight, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, also crappy appartments, also tv marathons and movie marathons, also umbrellas, also war movies?, and blushing, city life, future just dance battles, i mean a lot of christmas decorating, oblvious!Jasper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessamurphy/pseuds/jessamurphy
Summary: “Clarke my gal, my girl, my galpal-“ he starts off, taking his earbuds out. Clarke waves with one hand while she finishes her sentence, safes the document about a hundred times and then closes her laptop. The album is still playing in the background. There’s a smile tugging at the corner of Jasper’s lips. “Nice decorating you did here.” 
 University can get crazy. There are enough people who can confirm - Murphy is mostly the first to do so. Imagine how crazy life gets when you include a group of friends, bonding nights, and the ultimate gift exchange. It’s a warzone, really.(Or, basically, why you shouldn’t let Jasper and Murphy alone on Christmas break, and why festive is something that becomes you.OR: the Modern  DAY AU Festive Slice of Life nobody even thought of but still gets)





	1. Penguins Walk More Gracefully On Ice (Than You)

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see!  
> Honestly, I'm a bit out of it, but I've had this idea for a while now and since it's holiday season I couldn't think of a better time to write it. It's gonna be like, snowing fluff. So buckle up kids, this is going to be a cosy ride.  
> (I'm gonna ignore how little sense that made)
> 
> I also think that this describes the actual amount of Christmas involved in this chapter:  
> “Let’s give it a shot,” Monty says, already moving to hang the garland. It takes some effort, but they get there. It actually looks quite nice.  
> “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” Jasper grins, hands propped in his side. Monty snorts and corrects him.  
> “It’s beginning to look _a bit_ like Christmas.”
> 
> completely unbeta'd, so if there are any mistakes I'd like to hear it!

No one really knows when the Great Umbrella War had started. According to Bellamy, their great historian (that’s a lie; Bellamy Blake only briefly considered studying history as a major before choosing the literature track), had pinpointed the moment to fall three years back, when Harper (at that time Monty’s girlfriend) had walked in with an umbrella that Clarke became particularly fond of. Clarke bought the same one a day later. Three weeks later Harper had arrived with another one, and things all went downhill from there. Each year, they get at least one new umbrella. If the tide is high, Bellamy, Jasper, Monty, and Clarke will all get a new one. It is becoming a problem; the umbrella stand is slowly overflowing with umbrellas in all sizes and colours imaginable. Of course there’s an upside too; they never run out, and they can always lend visitors one if needed. They count the umbrellas each and every single year, but leave the plain ones Jasper buys out of it, because really, the boy manages to destroy every single one he touches. If it’s not by weather, it’s by imitating Star Wars and pretending they are light sabers. Jasper had figured out fairly quickly they are not meant to be some kind of epic sword, but he can’t bring himself to care about the amount of umbrellas he wears down. He has fun when he play-fights with Monty, and that’s really all that matters to him. His raincoat is more effective anyway (although Jasper tends to forget to bring it when the forecast is particularly bad; he usually comes home soaked). The last time they counted the umbrellas they had about fourteen, and Clarke was sure they lost at least three to friends or other dubious circumstances. 

 

The competitive umbrella buys aren’t the only things that are some sort of traditions to the four flatmates. Whenever somebody has exams they make sure there will be more than enough coffee and chocolate around, easy meals that made sure the sufferer has enough energy to burn. The pile of blankets they keep in their living room will always be clean and washed. When one of them spends too much time studying, the others make sure to pull them out of their room to come out and take a break and just breathe. And after hell-week, the exam period, or whatever stressful event, they will destress together in various ways. Mostly with facial masks and utterly brain-crushingly simple tv-shows, but sometimes alcohol isn’t excluded as well. 

Which is how they end up here; tangled together on the couch, a bottle of cheap wine passed between them, because who really uses fancy breakable wineglasses anyway? Some mind-numbing show blares away on the background, but it’s not what Jasper’s focussed on. He and Monty are taking up one of two couches, limbs a mess, touching everywhere; Jasper’s head lies on Monty’s chest, Monty’s arm is swung around him, and they are cuddling and it’s nice and warm and snuggly, and Jasper wonders for a split second, while a pleasant alcohol-induced buzz rushes through his body, what it would be like to press his lips against Monty’s. He wonders if his lips would tingle and if he would be suddenly more aware of every fibre in his body. He wonders if Monty would press his lips against his too, or if they would just merely brush them. Just for a split second, he wonders. He snuggles a little closer. This wonder is nothing new to Jasper. Maybe the though has crossed his mind one time before, or two times, or four times, or just whenever there’s enough alcohol in his system to let his mind aimlessly wander while he drowns himself in the warmth of his best friend.

They are almost always touching. It’s just the way they are. Clarke has joked many times that Jasper and Monty are attached at the hip. The thing is, she isn’t really wrong. Going one day without touching Monty is like starving. Which is why alcoholic partial-end-of-suffering celebrations are the best. Jasper will let himself endorse Monty’s buzzed clinginess, and there will be so much bodily contact Jasper could drown in the touches. Bellamy had noticed pretty soon that Monty and Jasper are cuddly drunks. Whenever Bellamy didn’t feel like cuddling, he’d just go and sit on another couch and watch how Jasper and Monty tried to make sense of the mess they were. Bellamy still isn’t sure if it’s just a convenience or if there’s something else going on there.

Bellamy raises his eyebrows at Clarke, nodding to the two who’re practically spooning. Clarke just passes him the bottle in response and zaps to MTV to watch Ridiculousness. Bellamy takes a swig, considering the two, and passes the bottle back to Clarke. Tiredness starts to wash over him in waves. It has been a long two weeks of tests, and now he’s got one weekend of free time to do whatever before he’s getting started again. He yawns and watches the figures on the tv-screen move, laughs. At one point he notices it’s only Clarke’s laughter and snorts ringing through the room, and when he looks to the other couch Monty and Jasper are vast asleep. Bellamy manages to get up, messily lies down a blanket atop the two best friends, and smiles softly. Cuddly bros are good. At least they don’t fight.

He groans, because why now did his mind wander to Murphy, of all people? Murphy could probably be a supreme bro. But the thing is, Murphy could also be annoying as hell, and he didn’t take shit- especially from Bellamy. Bellamy sometimes wonders what it is about him that triggers Murphy this much, but he still hasn’t figured it out yet. And it’s not like he could really _hate_ Murphy anyway, as annoying as he is. No, hate is a thing he keeps stacked away for professor Jaha, or every other unfair bastard, blonde-haired president-elects with no good bone in their body. But not for Murphy.   


“G’night,” he murmurs to Jasper and Monty. He shambles away and pets Clarke’s hair shortly before moving into his bedroom, ignoring Clarke’s indignant cry of protest. He hears her call “Goodnight sweet prince,” and then she giggles, clearly pleased with the insult she managed to get out. If anything, Clarke was a happy drunk most of the times. She didn’t really change, not the way some other people did when drinking, but she laughed a lot more. Mix Clarke, Raven, Octavia and alcohol together however, and they are prone to do something ridiculously stupid or dangerous, or both. Bellamy loves them to bits, but they have no self-control at times like that. It was okay though. Sometimes they just need to get stupid. It’s something Bellamy has learned over the few years he has been living together with Jasper, Monty and Clarke, with his sister and Raven visiting many times, and as for lately, Murphy as well. It all started after high school; Clarke and Jasper planned on going to the same college, and incidentally, Monty was planning on studying in the same city too. Bellamy, one year ahead of the others, was living in said city, and desperate to move out of his dorm room. His roommate was an okay kind of guy, but they didn’t get along. At all.  
So there Bellamy was, jumping at the opportunity to move out and move in with friends. He knew Clarke from the soccer team, Jasper and Monty from Finn’s parties. They got along. It worked out fine.

 

* * *

 

It had taken quite some time to find an apartment that worked for all of them. Four bedrooms and a semi-decent kitchen wasn’t something you really found for the amount of money they had, even if they had jobs. Jasper and Monty opted to share if needed. Clarke had asked what they would do if one of them got into a relationship, and Jasper joked that if Monty found anyone he’d sent him to sleep on the couch. Monty had laughed, but didn’t comment. With three rooms and one optional one they suddenly had a lot more options. After an intense search they -or well, Clarke's mother Abby’s boyfriend and real estate manager Marcus Kane- finally found something fitting for all of them. The apartment wasn’t big, but a lot spacier than they had hoped for. It had only three bedrooms, but they soon agreed that would be fine. Jasper and Monty share the biggest bedroom, and Bellamy and Clarke settled for the smaller ones. The kitchen, dining area and living room are all connected- the dining area being a table with four chairs smashed somewhere between the living room and half into the kitchen. Light always pours through the big windows, making the area feel lighter and spacier than it really is. The first thing Clarke had done after everything was settled was decorate the windowsills with a long string of fairy lights. Even if it was only August, she was ready to bring on the Christmas vibes. The lights still light up the room at night, spreading a cosy glow through the apartment.

 

* * *

 

It’s Saturday night. Jasper slams the door of the apartment close as he walks inside, tired from his shift at the pizzeria. It had been a crazy tonight, and the night was only starting. Already a few drunken calls have been made. Drunken calls aren’t the worse, if anything they’re just less easily deciphered. But the last call- well, for that kind of people there’s a special place in hell. Everything had an exception, and when Jasper had told the man on the other end of the line that adding toppings cost extra money, all hell broke loose. He had been on the phone for forty minutes before the man had made up his mind and ordered, but not before releasing a dictionary worth of insults on Jasper. Jasper doesn’t know if he could’ve taken any more calls. He’s just glad he’s home. While he hangs his coat he can hear the music coming from the kitchen. There’s whiffs and scents coming his way and he sighs. Curiously he peeks around the corner, sees Bellamy moving around with grace. For a split second he wonders if Monty’s home, before he realizes that he is. The only person who’s not home is Clarke, who’s babysitting the younger kid of a couple one floor down. She’d met the woman when getting the mail the other day, making small talk, getting to know her neighbors. They turned to get along way, and the woman -called Luna- had decided to be bold and asked if Clarke wanted to babysit her child sometime, to which Clarke hadn’t protested. Luna had promised her a fair pay. She was just happy to be able to go out with her love Derrick. Clarke quite likes babysitting the little boy; all she really has to do is take her sharpies with her and get some paper, and Ethan will be busy all night. It gives Clarke time to do some sketching of her own, and Ethan’s look when he finishes something is priceless. Clarke doesn’t mind, really. It’s easy made money, a break from her work at the hardware store and the art history curriculum she does. 

Bellamy sings under his breath, and the melody somewhat resembles _Let it Snow_. Jasper lingers for a moment before slipping into his bedroom. As soon as his body had hit the mattress somethingsoared towards him. With a soft thud a paper bag hits his chest. Groggily he lifts his chest, plucks the bag off of it. On the other side of the room Monty is reading a book, a small smile playing across his lips. Jasper knows it’s not because of the book Monty’s reading that’s advertising something about environmental engineering. Without looking up Monty’s turning the page and continues studying. Jasper opens the bag.  


“Oh man, have I told you I love you?” Jasper sighs as digs up the cinnamon swirl. Happily he takes a big bite, practically moaning around the pastry. He hadn’t noticed how hungry he was.  


“Numerous times,” Monty muses. He looks at his best friend, amused. Jasper chews, swallows his bite.  


“Well, this time I mean it.” Monty raises an eyebrow.  


“Are you saying you didn’t mean it before?” Jasper mumbles something inaudibly before swallowing his last bite. Monty shakes his head and closes his book. He’s been studying all day. It’s no use continuing now; the sentences had started to dart across the pages and he’s losing track of the subjects. “How was your shift?”  


“It was okay. The last caller was a pain in the ass though. I don’t think I’ve heard so much homophobic slurs in a row directed at me, so that was-,” Jasper pauses in search for words, “an experience.” 

Monty’s nose wrinkles. Getting treaded like crap is always shitty, but he knows how Jasper feels about slurs in particular. He studies his best friend. His shoulders aren’t tense. If all, Jasper’s just plainly tired. He’s got this look on his face that’s distant, and Monty immediately knows his train of thought is stuck on the insults. He shifts. He knows Jasper needs distraction.  


“You wanna see what I bought?” he asks Jasper, who nods. Monty gets a bag from his bedside. After he popped by the little coffee shop and bakery at which he worked, he’d gone further into the city to take a stroll on a well deserved break. The little coffee shop and bakery was just around the corner, nestled in between a book store and a flower shop. There weren’t a lot of shops around their neighborhood; most of the businesses were take out restaurants a few blocks down. Monty’d passed the book store and crossed the street, walking past a window. Christmas decoration was popping up everywhere. There was the tiniest thing that had caught Monty’s eye.  


He holds up a snow globe. Jasper gets up, reaches out before looking at Monty questioningly, who smiles in answer to the unasked question. Jasper takes the object and inspects it. Inside the glass there are little buildings, a skyline of the city. Monty lets Jasper shake it a few times, smiles at the smile creeping up his face.  


“Here, watch this,” Monty says as he takes back the snow globe. There’s a little switch at the bottom that he changes, and suddenly the little buildings are lit. Jasper’s smile’s almost brighter than the little skyline.  


“Cool,” he says, “where’d you get it?”  
“You know that shop a few blocks down with the golden letters painted on the window? That one of which you never know what they actually sell,” says Monty, and Jasper nods. “Well, I got it there. Alongside with this-,” he pulls out a garland of little decorated paper trees. Jasper grins.  


“We should put that up. Clarke’ll love it.”  


“Undeniably,” Monty puts down the snow globe on his bedside table and tries to untangle the strings of the garland. He somewhat succeeds. “Let’s go.”  
Jasper and Monty walk into the living room. Bellamy’s still cooking and singing in the kitchen, doesn’t seem to notice the others.  


“Where’d you want to put it?” Jasper looks around the room. His eyes scan the walls, which are decorated with a few of Clarke’s sketches and some aquarelles. They’re mostly landscapes, some city impressions. They change from time to time. The walls themselves are blank, a creamy white to make the room look bigger than it actually is. They can put up the garland near the ceiling, Jasper figures, but that also means they need to get up a chair and actually put effort into it. Draping it around a chair would be plainly lazy, and probably inconvenient too. Lining the garland up with the fairy lights would be cute, but not the most practical solution.  


“How about the fireplace?” Jasper offers, eyes stuck on the old fireplace. It’s not an actual fireplace anymore; their gaming systems and a stack of games lie in the former hearth, and balanced on top of the mantle is the flatscreen Hannah Green gave to them as a housewarming gift. Jasper notices Monty’s eyes darting to the spot, followed by a slow smile spreading across his face.  


“Let’s give it a shot,” Monty says, already moving to hang the garland. It takes some effort, but they get there. It actually looks quite nice.  


“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” Jasper grins, hands propped in his side. Monty snorts and corrects him.  


“It’s beginning to look _a bit_ like Christmas.”

 

* * *

  
  
“Guys, I’m home!” Clarke calls a few days later when she opens the front door. It’s suspiciously quiet. Clarke smiles to herself.  
“Good,” she murmurs, closing the door behind her with one hand. In her arms a paper bag is balanced, overflowing with decorations and glittery things. She definitely hadn’t stopped by any stores after college. At all. And she also definitely isn’t desperate to evade her comparative essay on Poussinists and Rubenists. No, this is no procrastination. She simply has a mission to spread the Christmas spirit like a virus, preferably as soon as possible. 

Clarke had immediately noticed the little tree garland decorating the fireplace. With only a few weeks left until the holidays, it was high time the place started to look like it. Thanksgiving had long passed (okay, factually Thanksgiving had only been last week, but _factually_ Clarke didn’t give a damn) and the meagre decorations were a disgrace to her eyes. So here she was, bag filled with things that would soon grace their apartment. Absolutely necessary things. Like fluffy clouds of glittery fake snow they could put in the windowsill, and candy canes for in their non-existent tree as of yet. 

Food would have admittedly be more necessary. 

Clarke shrugs and puts on the first Christmas album she can finds. She goes bananas decorating the apartment - as much as she can on her budget. At the end of the afternoon the fake snow lies atop the mantle, in every windowsill; of course there’s mistletoe, although Clarke isn’t sure where to put that yet. The canes are hanging from the little tree garland. The pantry has been stocked with cocoa and marshmallows, there’s a can of whipped cream in their fridge. There’s a box of decorations for the tree she has left that she puts under her bed. Clarke gets her laptop and sighs happily at the string of little lights now alining the garland and lighting up the room. She figures she can work on her essay in their living room until the others get home, so she sets out to work. It takes a while -about half of her essay- before anyone gets home. 

“ _And when we go don’t blame us, yeah_ ,” Clarke hears a voice sing faintly. She immediately knows it’s Jasper- he’s the only one who musically never really grew out of his emo phase. Although a lot of new music has made his list, Clarke knows he’ll listen to certain bands on repeat when he’s in the right mood. “ _We’ll let the fire just bathe us, we’ll never let you go_ ,” Jasper’s still singing when his head pops around the corner.  


“Clarke my gal, my girl, my galpal-“ he starts off, taking his earbuds out. Clarke waves with one hand while she finishes her sentence, safes the document about a hundred times and then closes her laptop. The album is still playing in the background. There’s a smile tugging at the corner of Jasper’s lips.  “Nice decorating you did here.”  


“Well thank you mister Jordan,” Clarke smiles.  


“Does this mean I can bring out the special blankets tonight?”  


“Of course!” Clarke lays down her laptop. “Who’s on cooking duty?”  


“I think I am,” Jasper says, shrugging off his coat. “But Bellamy’s not home until eight because of his shift at the shelter.” He looks at his phone en frowns. 

“Monty should’ve been home by now.”  


He walks into the little hall and pops his head into his bedroom. A few moments later he emerges again.  


“Not there,” he ascertains. His look is questioning when he looks at Clarke. “You haven’t heard him come home or anything?”  


“Nope,” Clarke pops the p. “I’ve been home all afternoon decorating and working on my paper.”  


“What’s it about?” Jasper asks as he gets a glass of orange juice. He raises the carton at Clarke, asking if she wants to have anything as well. She nods.  


“Rubenists and Poussinists,” she answers in a sigh. Jasper looks impressed. He puts down the glasses on the coffee table.  


“Wouldn’t have gone for that, I think,” he says as he jumps onto their couch. “Wanna watch something?”  


“Sure,” Clarke answers. “Could you turn off the radio?” She doesn’t think she’ll be able to move for a while. It kinda feels like her brain is fried. Well, tomorrow’s another day, she figures. The last day to work on that paper before the deadline. Clarke stretches her legs and lets herself sink away into the couch. Jasper lies down on the same couch and starts zapping.  


“I need something brainless,” Clarke says. With a short nod Jasper turns to TLC where Say Yes To The Dress is playing. He gets distracted pretty easily, but knows Clarke enjoys the show. Plus, it’s nice to watch the brides light up when they’ve found the right dress.  


“Monty’s not gonna be home for another hour,” Jasper announces when the commercial break’s on. Clarke makes a sound that acknowledges that she has heard him. She hears Jasper get up, the familiar sound of knitting needles.  


“Oh, can you hand me mine too?” She props up her body and smiles at Jasper.  


“Sure,” he replies, untangling the strings. He hands Clarke her project and lies his on the table before checking the fridge. “So we have whipped cream and milk, some apples and butter. Also, one egg and maybe two pieces of broccoli, which is a weird amount of broccoli to have. Should I ask Monty to bring home some groceries or should we just order pizza?”  


“I vote pizza,” Clarke says as she starts to knit. Jasper sits down beside her and nods.  


“I hoped so. I’ll just make a quick call to work and ask them to deliver the pizzas around eight. You want breadsticks or cinnamon sticks too?”  


“Whatever you feel like, I’ll eat it,” she says, already zoning out because the break is over. They sit like that for a while, just knitting away. Clarke’s working on a scarf for her mother. She knows Jasper’s taken on a special project, but doesn’t know what it exactly is. There’s a lot of red wool involved, so she guesses it’s something for a gift-exchange. At one point an alarm shakes her up. Jasper scrambles to get his phone.  


“Jasper, what the fuck?” Clarke asks, feeling like she just heard a horde of elephants passing by. Jasper mumbles a quick apology before putting away his knitting and getting blankets out of his and Monty’s room. There’s a knock on the door, and Jasper just assumes it’s the delivery boy, so he gets the money ready and opens the door.  


“Took you long enough,” Murphy grumbles before heading inside.  


“Good evening to you too, John,” Jasper says before closing the door. It isn’t unusual for Murphy to randomly show up. There’s a notification from both Clarke’s and Jasper’s phone. “ _Aaand_ Bellamy is bringing Miller back together with him from his shift at the shelter because they got entangled in a discussion about which war movie was the worst and they still haven’t decided. So I hope y’all have eaten already.”  


“Oh, I have,” Murphy says, making himself comfortable. “And this lady clearly should go with her first pick. Look at that dress. Look at the one she’s wearing now. Her family shouldn’t be that bitchy about it.”  


Jasper’s eyebrows knit. There’s another knock, and this time it is the delivery girl.  


“Heya Harper,” he smiles as he hands her the money. “Good shift?”  


“Not too bad,” she shrugs. “You tip generously.” Jasper smiles at that, and Harper grins. “I’m having a date when I get home, so it’s something to look forward to.”  


“Keep us updated,” Jasper says. Bellamy and Miller are stepping out the elevator, which doors open with a _ding._ Harper nods and waves, shortly greets the others who are still discussing the worst war movie of all times. Jasper holds open the door, balances the pizza boxes expertly on top of his fingers.  


“It’s definitely Revolution from 1985,” Bellamy protests, shrugging off his coat and hanging it. “If you’d ever see it you’d agree.”  


“Oh surely you’ve never seen Lion for Lambs. It made my eyes bleed.”  


“Clearly the worst war movie is Inchon, even the Telegraph says so,” Murphy comments. “Now if you shove some pizza in your mouth Clarke can watch her show in peace.”  


Bellamy raises an eyebrow at that and keeps silent about the facts that Murphy is watching Say Yes To The Dress very intently, and isn’t supposed to be  there. He sits down and takes a slice of pizza, sighing happily.  


“I needed this,” he says, parking his ass in between Miller and Murphy. They hear the door open and close.  


“Hi!” Monty calls from the hallway. “‘m home!” He walks into the living room, drops a plastic bag on the dining table and looks through the pizza boxes. He makes a happy sound when he gets to the last box.  


“You got my favourite!” he comments before taking a quarter and dumping it on a plate. “What are we watching?” he asks as he sits down next to Jasper. On the tv some weird commercial is showing. Now that Bellamy’s eating the discussion between him and Miller has died down.  


“I’m not sure,” Clarke says in between bites. She looks from Jasper to Bellamy. Miller shrugs.  


“Now I want to know if Murphy’s right about Inchon,” he admits. “Never seen it before.”  


“Me neither,” says Bellamy, mouth full of pizza. “Inchon it is. If it’s allright with you?”  


“Sure,” they all agree. Monty quickly downloads the movie and connects his laptop to the TV. They all snuggle up, get comfortable. Monty doesn’t know exactly when, but somewhere halfway through the movie he has lost his train of thought. The only thing he really notices is how Jasper’s arm is brushing his, and it’s small and really not that big of a deal, but he still notices. He leans in a bit, shifts, wonders how far he’s allowed to go. Jasper sinks back a bit, shifts his position so that their bodies fit together better. Monty tries to ignore the rapid beat of his heart, but he can’t help it, nor can he stop it. When the last slices of pizza are eaten and Clarke has fallen asleep it’s really only the guys left. Inchon is as bad as Murphy said it was, and it shouldn’t surprise Bellamy, but it still does.  


“Well, that was awful,” Murphy says as he gets up. “But I’ve proven a point. I’m gonna go now.”  


There’s a chorus of goodbye’s and the sound of a door shutting close.  


“It’s so weird when he does that,” Jasper murmurs, cheek resting against Monty’s head. “Just come in, eat, chill for a few hours, and leave.”  


“It’s amusing,” Bellamy shrugs. Miller laughs.  


“That’s one way of describing John Murphy,” he says. “I gotta give it to him though, this movie was absolutely terrible, right?”  


“Yeah,” both Monty and Jasper agree, even if neither remembers the end, or the middle, or any part after the first ten minutes. Their minds had been busy racing. Monty is usually the one to love war films -any type of film really- and it’s one of the first things he and Bellamy bonded over, but he just isn’t feeling it today. He’s distracted. After uni he had set out to get some early holiday shopping done. He knows he’ll probably be too busy socializing once the holidays arrive. This year he won’t be spending Christmas with his family, as they are off skiing somewhere he doesn’t really want to go. It’s okay because Jasper will be with him the whole break, Clarke will be there most of the time, and Bellamy has already promised to drop by for a dinner and NYE. Monty knows he won't be alone. With his shopping mostly done he’d walked home, walking past the mystery shop at which he bought his snow globe. There’s a variety of snow globes still on display, alongside with a series of pillows Monty just knows Clarke will love. With a grumble and a sigh he’d walked inside, greeting the cashier. A smile had played across his lips. The shop really had every holiday themed item imaginable. Maybe it was a Christmas shop he hadn’t noticed until now. Monty shrugged and bought a globe specifically for Jasper, alongside with the pillows for Clarke. And he’d felt contant, happy even. There was no uni for him tomorrow, no colleges to attend, just a shift to work. He had been pretty sure that Jasper’d love his Christmas gift (well, the first of many), but the further he walked home, the more he began to doubt. His doubt didn’t fade, even when he’d eaten half a pizza and almost fell asleep with his head resting on Jasper’s shoulder. And sitting like that Monty wonders if it’s okay, if he's allowed to have this moment. His worry about the presents fades onto the background as he’s aware of the skin that’s touching. And it’s nothing new, really, the way Monty’s skin is touching Jasper’s, but it’s different all the same. And it has been for a while. Monty remembers their comfort turning awkward during puberty, remembers the way it changed back near the end of high school. He remembers having to get used to not touching, and then being able to again. He remembers the conversation he and Jasper had had halfway through high school, remembers Jasper admitting that he thought he was bi or pan and he himself admitting he didn’t know. And Jasper’d told him that it was okay, and that he could always talk to him. Both were things Monty’d already known, but that moment made something shift, changed something. Ever since living together that shift had become more and more apparent. Things had started to fall into place. Once Monty had realized he was a goner for his best friend, things hadn’t been the same.

Monty doesn’t think Jasper’d hate him. But he’s still afraid he’s ruining the best friendship he’s ever had. Fear feels like a rational emotion in his situation, a thrumming in his chest aside the warmth that’s blooming. He lets himself have the moment, but reminds himself not to take it too far. He doesn’t dwell on it. Jasper shifts.  


“That’s a movie I’ll never want to see again,” Miller sighs. “Speaking of- are there any Christmas plans here? Like some movie marathon?”  


“We can make plans if you want to,” Jasper offers. Miller smiles.  


“Start of Christmas break, movie marathon at my place,” Miller settles. “Gotta go though, my babe’s not so patiently waiting for me to come home.”  


“Miller, we all know Bryan’s your babe,” Clarke says groggily, “but please just call him Bryan.”  


“Nope,” Miller smiles, “I’ll go home to my honeybun and tell him about our plans. You have a good night.”  


“I’ll try,” Clarke says, “after I’ve washed my ears with soap to un-hear your pet names.”  


“Aww,” Miller pouts, but he doesn’t look sorry in the slightest. “Good luck with that. We’ll stay in touch. Bells- see you tomorrow? I think we got the same shift again.”   
Bellamy gets up to let Miller out. Clarke stretches and yawns.  


“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bed,” she says, “got a paper to finish to morrow.”  


“I’ll just snuggle up with my sugarplum,” Jasper smiles, putting his arms around Monty. Clarke scrunches her nose, then rolls her eyes. Monty can feel the heat creeping up his cheeks.  


“You do that,” she says whilst getting up and stretching. Bellamy closes the front door and announces that he’s hitting the hay too. Jasper doesn’t remove his arm, bathes in Monty’s warmth. It isn’t long before he’s drifting up, so eventually he gets up and turns off the tv.  


“Let’s go to sleep,” he says, looking at Monty expectantly.  


“Just a sec,” Monty retorts, trying to motivate himself to move. After a good two minutes Monty finally gets up, yawning. They turn off the lights, make sure the front door is locked. 

“Jasp,” Monty whispers when they’re lying in bed, curtains shut and silence cutting.  


“Hm?” Jasper answers sleepily. Monty hears him turn around in his bed. He stares into the darkness, only sees a vague silhouette.  


“You doing anything coming Sunday?”  


“Other than evading responsibilities and sleep?” Jasper asks, and Monty smiles. “Probably not.”  


“I, uh, was wondering,-” Monty starts, and he doesn’t know why his heart is beating this rapidly, and why his palms are sweating. It’s not like he’s asking Jasper out on a date. Not _really_. “-do you want to check out the skating rink they’re setting up at the square?”  


Jasper’s breath hitches.  


“Yeah,” he says, feeling a light flutter in his stomach. He doesn’t dwell on it. “On one condition: we’re getting hot cocoa after.”

 

* * *

 

Sunday rolls around on a breeze. Clarke is out to work on an art project together with Finn and two girls named Zoe Monroe and Fox. Bellamy’s visiting his little sister Octavia, or maybe out to watch one of her kickboxing matches. He wasn’t really clear on the subject. It’s just Jasper and Monty in the building.  


“Do you reckon Bells will bring home a Christmas tree?” Jasper wonders aloud. Decorating the tree together has been a tradition since their first year of living together. Nobody gets to escape decorating duty. It’s fun though; Bellamy always spikes the cacao and Monty and Jasper are usually left in charge of the music. It’s chaos in a good way. Jasper’s wrapping himself in a red scarf, shrugs on his navy coat. Monty shrugs as he puts on his own coat and looks at the empty spot in the corner of the room.  


“I hope so,” he says, “there’s only so much decorating that can be done without a tree, and I think we’ve reached the maximum.”  


“Do you remember that one neighbor that always went full out? With all the lights on the outside?” Jasper asks, and Monty nods. “I went inside once. It was like santa puked Christmas all over the place. It was kinda horrifying.”  
The look on Monty’s face is one of some kind of horror. Jasper chuckles at the sight of it.  


“Yeah,” he agrees. “You ready to go?”  


“I’m always ready to go with you,” Monty answers without missing a heartbeat. Jasper grins.  


“Aw,” he coos, “thanks honeybun.” 

“Stop it,” Monty says, and he’s only half joking. His face reddens and he’s fumbling with his hands. Jasper jingles the keys.  


“Sure thing, buttercup,” he says teasingly. Monty shoves him softly as they’re walking out of the apartment. Jasper gasps, semi-insulted. “No need for that, pumpkin!”  


“You aren’t going to stop with the pet names, are you, sweetheart?” Monty says even though he already knows the answer. Jasper blushes slightly as the chilly winter air hits his cheeks.  


“No,” he answers, burying his nose in his scarf. “Not until I run out.” Monty makes a face.  


“But everything can be a pet name.”  


“Exactly,” Jasper’s eyes twinkle deviously. Monty doesn’t comment, and definitely doesn’t notice that their arms are still brushing, even when the sidewalk’s practically empty and there’s enough space for them to walk. “Oh captain, my captain,” he sighs dramatically, and then pauses. He tries to remember the rest of the poem but it doesn’t come to him, and it’s irrelevant anyway. “Show me the way.”  


“Don’t you mean: ‘oh lord, show me the way’?” Monty suggests. Jasper shakes his head.  


“Absolutely not. I’m planning to sin,” he grins. Monty tries not to dwell on the possible ways to sin.  


“How?” he simply asks. It’s not that far to the improvised ice rink anymore. They walk side by side.  


“By putting on a sinful performance once my skates hit the ice,” Jasper wiggles his eyebrows, and Monty can’t help to snort.  


“Allright mister,” he says, “whatever you say.”  


“That’s sir, Green.”  


“No need to call me sir, Jordan,” Monty grins, and Jasper groans, shaking his head. He picks up his pace. Before Monty can protest Jasper’s already bought entrance to the skating rink. When Monty’s caught up Jasper’s already waiting at the little skate rental.  


“Just in time,” Jasper smiles as the employee pushes forward to pairs of skates. Jasper pays quickly and hands Monty his skates. “These should be your size.”  


Monty frowns, feeling flustered. The skates do fit fine. A little stiffly he makes his way to the ice rink, wiggling like a penguin. The moment his skates hit the ice he knows he’s going to be okay though. Monty skates around the rink. It isn’t as crowded as it would be in the evening, when lights are twinkling and everyone’s free from work. It takes a few strides before he has found his rhythm, but he picks it up pretty soon after that. When he was a kid his parents had taken him and his nieces skating a few times, so he’s pretty okay at it. He’s not a natural, doesn’t do cool tricks like some of the others can, but he’s at least able to keep his balance. After a second lap he searches to see if he can find Jasper. Jasper isn’t on the ice yet, just anxiously waits along the sides.  


“Jasper!” Monty yells as he comes skating towards him. Jasper perks his head and looks right at Monty. “You coming?”  


“Just a sec,” Jasper answers, shaking slightly. He’s happy to take Monty out skating, has seen how effortlessly he skated around the rink. Jasper- not so much. The only time he ever attempted to ice skate he broke his leg in two places, and when he was down he’d almost gotten hit by a skate. He doesn’t think he’s ever told Monty, and it would be silly to do so now. No, he’d just suck it up and enter the rink. Yeah. Carefully he moves his leg, inhales sharply when the blades make contact with the slippery surface. Monty sends him a worried look.  


“Need help?” he asks to an unusually pale looking Jasper, who’s shaking his head. When is second foot hits the ice he wobbles and lets out a small terrified noice.  


“Okay, yeah, maybe,” he nods, holding on to the railing on the side so that he doesn’t fall over. “You know these little kiddie racks they show in movies? I’m missing those here. I mean I’d probably be stiff from bending over but-,” Jasper realizes he’s rambling. Only when he sees Monty trying to keep a straight face it sinks in what he’s said. He turns bright pink and starts to stumble. “-with the height of the kiddie racks and my heightand all and-“

“Take my hand,” Monty says, and Jasper immediately falls silent. He feels his cheeks heat up and coughs awkwardly. His breath comes out in small clouds.  


“What?” he squeaks, looking at the hand Monty’s offering.

“Take my hand,” Monty repeats, waving his hands ever so slightly. “It’ll help you keep balance.”  


“Hopefully,” Jasper huffs, but he still takes Monty’s hands.  


“You know how to skate?”  


“Not really,” Jasper mumbles. “I kinda broke my leg the first time I tried.”  


“You never told me,” Monty says, slowly pulling him forwards. He shows Jasper how to skate, watches as he tries to get the hang of it. “Well, you were right about one thing,” Monty laughs when Jasper finally catches on and wobbles on his own two feet. Jasper looks up with the biggest puppy eyes Monty’s ever witnessed on his face. He feels his heart skip a beat.  


“What?” Jasper asks, skating stiffly. When he almost loses balance he grabs for Monty’s hands. As Monty slowly picks up the pace Jasper doesn’t let go of his hand. He manages to keep up, smiling brightly. At one moment he lets go, picks up the pace some more, and then he’s surpassing Monty, who cheers. He slows down and takes Monty’s hand in his again. “Tell me?”  


“Your skating is absolutely sinful.”


	2. It's Always a Good Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! I hoped to get this up earlier but I just didn't get around to finishing it soooo...  
> anyway, I hope you enjoy this! There's a slight increase in christmas-y feelings. There's also a slight increase in cuddling.
> 
> I hope to upload the next chapter on boxing day, but I won't make any promises as I do have quite the Christmas affairs with family, which are always fun! 
> 
> just in case I don't get it up in time, happy holidays!
> 
> as always, completely unbeta'd, so if there are any mistakes I'd like to hear it

“No, wait, Monts, I’m not ready yet!” Jasper laughs, doubling over. “I need to- need to fix my-“ he gestures vaguely to his face.  
  
“Oh come on, it is not my fault you fell over when you let go of my hand!” Monty bumps his shoulder. “And you could’ve fixed your hair walking in the stairway.”  


“Monty Green, you know damn well that I can’t multitask. Remember that time I walked into a lamppost because I was skipping a song on my phone?”  


“How could I forget? You arrived at class looking like you had been attacked by a serial killer. There was blood all over your face and shirt.”  


“Mrs. Anderson looked so shocked,” Jasper chuckles. He strikes his hair out of his eyes and smiles at Monty. “Good times.”

“If getting a bloody nose is your definition of a good time, I think I should be worried.”  


“Aw, no need to get worried babe,” Jasper’s smile is somewhat devilish. “Got a bloody nose, so had a good time.” And he honest to God winks at Monty. He turns just in time to unlock the door and miss how Monty furiously blushes.

“Does that mean-,” Monty weakly starts, but is cut off by Jasper.  


“Don’t worry Monts, every time with you is a good time,” he shouts from the end of the hallway. Monty softly closes the door behind him and smiles.  


“How cute,” Clarke coos from her spot on the couch. Jasper raises his eyebrows at the blonde, who’s grinning like a madman. Jasper eyes the sweater she’s wearing. 

“Where have you been?” Clarke asks. She then frowns. “And why is there blood on your shirt?”  


“We went ice skating,” Jasper answers. “And I fell over and got a bloody nose.”  


“If you ever need to know how to get it out, I got some tips and tricks,” Clarke smiles. 

“Or you could just wear red next time,” says Monty, joining them. “Nice sweater.”  


“Thank you,” Clarke glows. Her sweater is hideous, but that is the point. It had started in high school with Miller, who’d been forced to wear a knitted sweater by his mother. He’d been about fourteen at the time, and his mother had just started knitting. She had let David, her colorblind husband, choose the colors of yarn. Needlessly to say Miller had ended up having one of the ugliest sweaters in existence, but it was made with so much love he wore it anyway. Miller had never really admitted it, but he kinda liked the sweater, and everyone could tell by the amount of time he actually wore it. For some reason Murphy had shown up the next day with a sweater almost as bad as Miller’s. He’d said it was ‘for back-up’, and although it didn’t sound too convincing everyone just rolled with it. Murphy never told anyone, but it had been his father’s- he hadn’t grown into it yet but it made him feel guarded. So he wore it. It all picked up from there: Bellamy showed up wearing a reindeer shirt and antlers, the shirt complete with red nose and all. Then Clarke showed up sporting a sweater saying ‘how about snow?’ and they had started wearing more hideous sweaters since then. Jasper got Monty a Super Mario Christmas sweater, while Monty got Jasper a sweater with a reindeer that could light up, which he’d found in a secondhand store somewhere. Each year, they’d try to top each other in who could find the ugliest sweater. Miller usually won, but that was because he got bonuspoints for self-made sweaters, and since tritanopia was something that ran in his family _and_ his family had a tradition of gifting each other self-made sweaters of varying quality, it wasn’t really that hard for him. Octavia and Raven were good competitors too. Raven because she always looked where no one else would look, a talent she frankly shared with Jasper, and Octavia because she was very devoted to winning to some extend- she’d always gift a very ugly sweater, but never really wore the true hideous gems. 

“I thought that’d be time for them,” Clarke grins.   


“So how was your art-project with Finn, Zoe and Fox?”   


“Good,” Clarke answered, “got home and took a shower right away, it was kinda messy work. You know Zoe was the one Harper had a date with?”  


“Huh,” Jasper and Monty both say at the same time. Clarke laughs.  


“Yeah, she’s real nice. They’re going on a date again tomorrow,” Clarke folds her fingers around the mug she’s holding. “Jasper, you wanna join an art session soon?”  


“Sure?” Jasper doesn’t sound too sure. His eyebrows are knitted in confusion. Clarke grins, satisfied with his answer. She doesn’t explain herself. Jasper flops down on the couch.

“Cool,” Clarke gets up. “Anyone want some hot chocolate?”

Monty and Jasper share a look. The taste of their last hot chocolate still lingers. Clarke waits patiently for a moment.   


“Okay,” Monty eventually says, breaking eye contact with Jasper. “With marshmallows please.”  


“Oh, and whipped cream,” Jasper adds, “see if it can top the one at the ice rink.”

“So you not only went skating without us, but you also went and got hot chocolate?!” Clarke scoffs, but there’s no venom in it.  


“Actually, Monty got me the hot chocolate,” Jasper shrugs, stretching his legs and sprawling out over the couch. He can’t see how Clarke raises her eyebrows while she gets the milk and cocoa. She wonders if there’s something she’s missing, if there’s something more going on. She doesn’t dwell on it too much- Jasper and Monty have always been inseparable. The line between their friendship and _something different_ has always been blurred. She doesn’t mind really, because they both seem so okay with it. It’s different from her and Finn. It’s not an underlying tension they are both aware of- not one that makes them uncomfortable. Maybe it’s just potential, but either way they’ll have to figure out themselves. Clarke is not going to draw conclusions for them, even if the whole skating-thing sounded a bit like a date. Maybe it was a bro-date. Bro-dates were a thing, right? At least according to Atom en Bellamy. Or Murphy and Bellamy. Or Miller and Bryan, who really aren’t the best of examples for obvious reasons. Clarke thinks she also heard Finn talk about it, but as far as she remembers he doesn’t have a lot of male friends- except for Jasper and Monty, and Murphy to some extent. Maybe it’s something she should google later. She tries to think of times when she went out with friends, but unless someone doesn’t have money they almost always pay for themselves, chip in when needed. But then again they’re more likely to treat someone on a drink instead of a whole meal. Clarke eventually shrugs and pours the hot cocoa into mugs, tops it off with whipped cream and little marshmallows.  


“Here you go,” she says with a smile as she hands the boys the mugs. She relaxes, pulls her legs up as she sits. “So how was it?”  


“The hot chocolate was great!” Jasper grins. Clarke rolls her eyes.  


“I meant the ice skating,” she clarifies. Jasper’s still grinning.   


“Jasper is a terrible ice skater,” Monty immediately says.   


“You promised not to tell anyone,” Jasper hisses, and he softly kicks Monty’s leg. Monty laughs.  


“Did not,” he protests. “It was fun, but I actually had to learn this noob how to skate.”  


“Hey, it’s not my fault that I broke my leg the first time I went skating, and then almost got trampled to death by an elderly couple on a date. It was terrifying.”  


“You broke your leg skating?” Clarke asks. She sounds surprised, although she’s not sure why. If there’s anyone to ever break anything- umbrellas, glasses, pottery- it’s Jasper. She really shouldn’t be surprised the list includes bones as well.  


“May or may not have watched too many ice hockey games before ever entering an ice rink,” Jasper shrugs. “May or may not just have fell.”

Clarke shakes her head, and at the same time the front door opens and there’s a mixture of singing and cursing. With a lot of noise and stumbling Bellamy enters the apartment, followed by Octavia and a tree.  


“Where do you want it, big bro?” Octavia asks, shoving the tree through the front door.

“There should be a standard somewhere in the corner of the living room. Right side of the fireplace, O,” Bellamy answers. Jasper perks up, curiously looking over the edge of the couch. The tree is decent sized. It will fill up the room nicely, but not take up too much space.

“Great,” Octavia grumbles. Clarke is already up on her feet to get them a cup of hot cocoa too. There’s a bit of stumbling, but they eventually manage to get the tree into place.  


“So that’s the first step,” Octavia concludes. “Have fun decorating it.”  


“You’re not gonna help?” Jasper asks, and watches as Clarke hands Octavia a steaming mug.  


“Not this year, Jasp,” Octavia answers before taking a sip. She chuckles as she sees Jasper pout. “Got to decorate the one at home with Lincoln.”  
Jasper huffs.  


“I feel betrayed,” he says, pretend to be hurt. Octavia just laughs.   


“Try again next year,” she shrugs as she sits down next to her brother. “Or don’t.” 

Jasper grumbles but doesn’t respond any further. 

“Thanks for the cocoa,” Bellamy says and he raises his mug before drinking. “It’s good.”

“So are we going to decorate the tree tomorrow, now that we have one?” Monty asks, eyebrows raised. Octavia shrugs.  


“Don’t look at me,” she says. Bellamy smiles.  


“Well I, for one, do not have to work,” Jasper announces.   


“Me neither,” confirms Bellamy. “Clarke?”  


“No,” she answers. They are now all looking at Jasper, who slowly starts to grin.   


“Seems like we have a date then,” he says, and they cheer.

 

* * *

 

Decorating a Christmas tree with four people never was an easy task, but they made it work. Seeing as they’d all had to look at it for at least a week (mostly more like a month), Monty, Bellamy, Jasper and Clarke had soon figured that it’d be better if they collectively decorated the tree. Of course it was great for their holiday spirit; they had created a whole event around it. They slept in, although they made sure to be awake by eleven. The only one who usually needed an alarm was Jasper, although Clarke and Monty had their own moments too. Bellamy always awoke around six o’clock and then went on a morning run with Lincoln. Sometimes Miller and Clarke’d join them too. After breakfast the boxes with decorations would be pulled out. Clarke was snug in her pyjama pants and favourite sweater and fluffy socks, hair pulled back in a quick bun. Bellamy was fully dressed, just like Monty, although Monty had chosen to go with a hoodie rather than the simple t-shirt Bellamy had chosen. Jasper was wearing a hoodie too, in combination with sweats that hung dubiously low on his hips, as if they hadn’t decided if they were the right size or not. The only thing that gave away that Bellamy had a day off was the glasses he was wearing. 

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” Clarke said as she pulled out one of the boxes. “We each pick a decoration. We lay them out on the tray. We pick another. And another. And then we’ll open up the second box and do the same. We then should have 6 pieces each, so 24 decorations in total. Everything clear?”  


“Question,” Jasper raises his hand, albeit a bit awkwardly, “do garlands count as a piece of decoration?”  


“Good one,” Clarke shoots Bellamy a short look. “Let’s just pull out the garlands and put them up first.”  


She rummages through the boxes and pulls out a golden one, followed by various garlands in red, silver, pink, green, blue and purple. Clarke groans as  she pulls out a string of lights, completely entangled.  


“Jasper, I need your spindly fingers for this,” she says, already handing them over. Jasper’s fingers are moving like he’s solving a Rubiks Cube, something he has down to an art form. Bellamy gets up to turn on the radio and immediately goes to make coffee.  


“Dibs on putting the lights on the tree,” Monty happily chirps. Jasper smiles, even when the lights are nowhere near untangled right now.   


“I’ll help,” Clarke offers, grabbing a plate of cookies and distributing them. After five minutes Jasper manages to disentangle the string of lights, whooping loudly.  


“Hell yeah!” He pumps his fist in the air. “Who’s the mcfucking master?”  


“You are?” Monty frowns and picks up the lights. The installment of the lights in the tree is something relative effortlessly, much to Clarke’s delight. Bellamy drapes the golden and red garlands around the tree, after they all decide that those are the most fitting Christmas-y colours.  


“Let’s get this party started!” Clarke says, pulling out the first box again.   


It is late afternoon when they are finally done decorating. The hallway is decorated with bows of holly. Clarke deviously managed to put up mistletoe, even when “we don’t have anyone to kiss, Clarke,” according to Monty, and “well, you _can_ always kiss me,” according to Jasper. He is only half joking, even when kissing Clarke isn’t a thing he particularly desired he didn’t think he would actually object to kissing any of them.  


“It’s nice for all our couple-y friends,” Clarke shrugs.

“All our two couple-y friends,” Jasper says. He hears Bellamy chuckle, and Monty is smiling too. Clarke doesn’t even try to hide hers, just shakes her head.   


“Soon we might have three couple-y friends,” Clarke reminds Jasper. “With Harper going on other dates with Monroe.”   


“And there’s Finn,” Bellamy shrugs. “I still don’t know if Raven and him are still a thing?”  


“Should I ask?” Jasper wonders. Monty considers it for a moment, then shakes his head.  


“She’ll tell if she wants us to know.”

 

* * *

 

There’s a Christmas countdown. It works like this: starting the week before Christmas they all lay down something underneath the tree for one another. It starts with something small, something like a bar of chocolate or a pencil, something cheap and fun, and it ends with the biggest present on the morning before boxing day. On that day Bellamy, Jasper, Monty and Clarke will get up early, have breakfast together, unpack the presents, get dressed and go their respective ways. They spend the holidays together with family but will eventually find their way back to each other after boxing day. 

Monty’s awoken by the sound of his phone receiving a message. From he other side of the room he hears Jasper groan. Then Jasper’s phone lights up, and Jasper groans again.  


“Nooo,” he moans into his pillow. Monty unlocks his phone and is greeted by a message from Clarke. 

Clarke: _Don’t forget the countdown!_

Jasper groans again, clearly not pleased by the fact that it’s this message that has awoken him. There’s only a few seconds before Monty hears his phone bleep again. This time it’s Jasper.  


Jasper: _It’s the fINAL COUNTDOWN tudududuuu tutududuudu tudududu  
_ Jasper _: du  
_ Jasper:  _THE FINAL COUNTDOOOWN  
_

“Thanks Jasp,” Monty sighs. “Now I got that song stuck in my head.”  


“You’re welcome,” Jasper mumbles, and it sounds like he’s already falling asleep again. Monty turns off the sound on his phone and turns around, sees the moment Jasper’s eyes fall shut again. He sighs softly and listens to the sounds of the traffic rushing by their window. Even when they’re living on the fourth floor the noises of the city never escape them. Monty feels a tad bit tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep again. He doesn’t want to get up yet, so he lies on his back, phone in his hand. He’s looking through his photos, pictures taken years ago. There’s even photos of him and Jasper back at the start of high school. He’ll occasionally find a photo of a photo his father sent. Those usually date back to kindergarden or the years after, when he really was just a kid with gleaming eyes and an easy smile. Monty’s always been a quite smiley kid. Never the most loud, outspoken one, but known to stand his ground when needed, always picking his fights and backing up his arguments. One of his teachers had once said that he was very loyal, and he hadn’t known what to do with that information- still doesn’t really. He’s loyal to his friends. His friendships mostly started in high school, with some exceptions: he’s grown up next to Harper, which probably is why they eventually dated back in high school. Miller’s been there for most of his life too, even when he got closer to Bellamy and some kid he met at his summer job as camp councilor called Murphy in high school. He’d met Raven in high school when they were doing the same extracurricular. Bellamy he knew through Octavia, and Octavia he knew through Jasper, and Jasper he knew through high school. First day, first class. Monty’d been running late because there were unexpected problems with Hannah’s car, so he’d stumbled into the classroom, panting because he’d just been running. And there Jasper was, waving like they’d known each other for years, patting the seat next to him in the middle of the classroom. Monty’d sat down just before the bell rang, and Jasper had turned to him and said:  


“If the Silver Surfer and Iron Man team up, they’d be alloys.”   


There had been a moment of silence before Monty’d comprehended that he was actually making a chemistry joke because they were in chemistry, and 

he’d chuckled. A slow grin had started to spread across Jasper’s face, and he’d stuck out his hand.  


“Jasper Jordan,” he’d introduced himself. Monty’d shaken his hand.  


“Monty Green,” he’d said. Jasper was still smiling.  


“Is green your favorite color?”

“No, but it might be Bruce Banner’s,” Monty’d answered, earning another grin. They were silenced by the teacher. It had clicked. From that moment on Jasper and Monty started to hang out more and more, up to the point that they now were living together. Sometimes when Monty opened his textbook he’d find some lame engineering or chemistry joke on a post-it. Post-its were generally everywhere in the apartment, but these ones always made his day. After all, Jasper and him did share the same kind of crappy humor that’d gotten them into trouble multiple times.  
Monty stops at a selfie of him and Jasper from the ice rink. Jasper’s cheeks are flushed pink. It’s not his usual grin that’s gracing his face, but a small smile, merely a tug on the corner of his mouth, sincere. He’s looking at Monty and pulling down Monty’s head, which is already covering one eye. Monty’s laughing at the camera, one eye visible, crinkles around his eyes. He taps on it and uses it as his new profile picture. It isn’t long before there’s a response.  
  
Miller: _nice one pal. where’s it taken?_  
Monty: t _he ice rink at the square  
_ Miller: _you went skating WITHOUT ME? :c  
_

Monty softly chuckles and stretches. His screen lights up again and this time it’s the group chat.  
  
Miller: _change of plans. No xmas movie marathon, we’re going skating!_  


They arrive at the ice rink in the afternoon, where they meet the others. It’s surprising how many people could eventually make it. Jasper isn’t there because he has to work his shift together with Harper, but Raven, Bryan, Octavia, Monty, Clarke, Finn and Miller are all there. Murphy shows up a bit late, and Bellamy just simply drops them off before heading to work. At first they are all a bit wobbly on their feet, but to most of them it comes naturally. Finn is far ahead, skating rounds around the rink at a pace no one can keep up with, skillfully evading all the people in his way. He skates backwards and forward and sideways. Murphy whistles and Finn grins. Finn spins and even adds in a little jump.  
  
“Show off!” Raven calls, but it’s without malice. Finn looks smugly at the group.   
  
“You can show your tricks too,” Finn shrugs. Raven’s grin is devilish.   
  
“O, you heard the man, let’s go!”  
  
Murphy is left behind, looking profoundly confused.   
  
“What are they-?” he asks, and then watches as Octavia and Raven take off. They skate a series of figures, not as gracefully as Finn, and not nearly as calm. There’s a moment when Bryan exclaims something inaudible to Murphy and takes after them. Murphy tries to follow them but quickly gives up, tries to skate backwards.  
  
“I wish I was in gear,” Raven sighs when she makes her way back to the group.   
  
“You can check me, I can take it,” Octavia says. Raven eventually shakes her head.   
  
“Save it for the games, big girl,” she smiles, softly bumping shoulders. Bryan is grinning and Murphy just shakes his head.  
  
“You know things like this get a lot less fun when there’s other people than you with actual talent,” he denotes, earning a snicker from Miller and Clarke.   
  
“Don’t worry, I can teach you,” Finn says, still smug. Murphy raises his eyebrows.  
  
“I’m not sure if I want to learn from you.”  


 

* * *

 

The first presents Bellamy, Monty and Clarke unpack are hand-painted mugs. They collectively look at Jasper, who’s hiding his smile behind the cup of tea he’s drinking. 

“Did you-?” Clarke frowns, then looks at her cup. Hers is painted a baby blue, Bellamy’s gotten a red one, and Monty -unsurprisingly- got a green one.  


“Yup,” Jasper nods. “I did.”  


Bellamy frowns at them.  


“What exactly did he do?” he asks.  


“Mimicked Marcus Kane,” Monty answers without missing a beat.  


“What, the guy that helped us get this place?”  


“Exactomundo,” Jasper smiles. 

“What did he do exactly?” Bellamy asks, still not getting it.  


“He made my mother a hand-painted mug for her birthday. And then a whole dinnerware set and a pot he made in a ceramics class he took. And she uses it. A lot.”  


“Ahh,” Bellamy nods. Jasper’s still grinning. “Does this mean we’re also getting a whole set of-?”  


“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Jasper vaguely answers as he wiggles his eyebrows. Bellamy and Clarke share a look of desperation that makes Monty laugh. Of course Jasper’s the one to drive them crazy with weird gifts. Jasper’s usually the one with weirdly sweet gifts. Monty’s noticed how people always expect Jasper to be the jokester, to give lame gifts, but it’s as far as the truth as they can get. Okay, sure, Jasper is a jokester, but he’s also pretty attentive, thinks of the little things. At least when it comes to Monty. And other close friends.  


“Anyone wants some tea?” Jasper asks as they all unpack the other gifts. The mugs are instantly used. Jasper looks pleased with the fact, and there’s a twinkle in his eye that catches Monty eye. They share a look for a short moment, and it feels like time needs to catch up to them for just a few seconds. They are not sure what it is, but they know it’s there. Monty breathes. Jasper still smiles.  


“Fruity tea or tea as black as my soul?”  


“Jasper,” Clarke groans. They hear Jasper laugh, water running. He puts on the water and walks towards the others. Bellamy’s phone buzzes.   


“Oh, right,” he says, then walks towards the front door. “I invited Murphy for our movie marathon”  


“What?!” Clarke sounds shocked, and maybe she is. Murphy is the person who always just drops by, and everyone’s okay with it. He literally is the guy that just invites himself. Actually, now Clarke thinks of it: maybe Bellamy has invited Murphy frequently without telling them. She wouldn’t know; she blinks and Murphy is there. “Oh, okay,” she then says, trying to sound neutral. They hear Murphy and Bellamy chat at the end of the hallway.

“We have a movie marathon planned tonight?” Jasper asks. Monty raises an eyebrow at him.  


“It’s the last Wednesday of the month,” Monty says, and Jasper’s eyes widen.  


“Oh, right!” he exclaims.   


“Only half a week into Christmas break and you’re already forgetting which day it is.”  


“Wish I could do that,” Clarke sighs. The kettle’s whistling, so Jasper makes his way to the kitchen.   


“It’s a better thing I don’t,” Monty smiles. “Otherwise I’d just keep missing shifts.”  


“Yeah, I really don’t know how he doesn’t,” Clarke squints her eyes. Monty shrugs.  


“He sets all his alarms for a whole week, and adds extra alarms an hour before he needs to get to work.”   


“That’s actually pretty smart,” Clarke looks slightly surprised. “I might start to do that too.”

“Murphy!” Jasper yells from the kitchen. “You want some as well?”  


“Want some of what? Your ass? Because I might have to consider that.”  


“You might need to consider it? I’m disappointed!” Jasper responds before walking up to Murphy, who’s now heading towards their living area. “I was talking about tea.”  


“Nah, water’s fine,” Murphy shrugs. “I brought some films.” He digs inside the backpack he’s brought. He presents them a bag of popcorn and chips, digs up another bag of fudge. Then Murphy proceeds to get things out of his bag: a stack of DVD’s, five bottles of beer and a beer opener. Bellamy frowns.  


“Woah, you came prepared,” he comments. Murphy merely shrugs, but he still looks flustered. Monty smiles at Jasper, and Clarke still looks confused.  


“Well, let’s watch your movies then,” Jasper decides as he puts down the steaming mugs.   


“I’ll go get it,” Bellamy says. The others settle.  


“Wait, I’m going to get two bowls for that popcorn,” Clarke announces. She divides the popcorn between the two bowls and puts one on the table in front of each couch. She settles for her usual spot, in the left corner of their bigger couch. Murphy’s slouched down beside her, and Jasper and Monty are taking up the smaller couch together. They’re sitting the way they always do, limbs all over the thing and entwined in a way that somehow looks only slightly uncomfortable. Monty’s back’s leaning against the side of the couch. He has one leg stretched out, and the other one resting beside the couch. Jasper has one knee propped up against his chest, folded over Monty’s stretched leg, and the other rests on the couch with Monty’s foot on it. Clarke drapes a fleece around her legs and folds her legs up. Bellamy goes to sit next to Murphy and starts the DVD.  


“Why exactly are we watching ‘Silent Night, Deadly Night’ ?” Jasper asks, sounding slightly uncomfortable.  


“Because I thought I’d show my Christmas spirit,” Murphy grins, opening a bottle of beer. Jasper mutters something nobody understands and moves to take a sip of his tea. The special effects of the movie aren’t that convincing, probably because the movie is made in 1984. Jasper manages to laugh a few times, even if it is a horror movie. Clarke mutters something about how stupid some people are somewhere halfway through the movie. Bellamy watches the movie with intent. It’s not the best movie he has seen, not by far, but it isn’t the worst either. The whole concept of Christmas horror movies is new to him. He idly wonders why someone would want to make horror movies about santa, and then immediately wonders if there are any horror movies about the easter bunny as well. Bellamy feels he really shouldn’t be surprised if Murphy happens to know any of them. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Jasper says as the movie’s ended. Murphy raises his eyebrows.  


“We started off easy,” he says. Jasper shrinks back a bit. There’s a lot he can stomach- a tornado made out of sharks, weird aliens invading, post-apocalyptic shows about people who need to discover if earth is survivable again; Jasper can stand medical shows and births, wipe-out and cooking shows, but he can’t stomach horror films. He’ll lie awake at night, images dancing around in his mind. He’d watched the Blair Witch Project together with Finn in high school and he hadn’t slept for half a week, finding himself in the forest each time he fell asleep, running in circles and circles. He’d blamed it on the Pokémon game he was playing at the time, but his parents’d known. They’d always known. His aunt- he loves her to bits, but she isn’t as good as picking out his emotions as his parents had been. 

“Do we want to dive in and play the one kinda based on the last one, or do we want something different?”  


“Something different sounds good,” Clarke nods. Monty gets up and clears the table, puts the empty mugs in the sink. They all agree that another movie’s good, so they settle for a movie called Silent Night, made in 2012. Monty picks up the orange blanket -his favorite- and offers the others something to drink. After a short break they start watching the movie.  


“I just don’t understand why someone would choose a flamethrower as a weapon,” Clarke frowns.   


“It’s kinda badass,” Jasper breathes, recalling how someone’d been scorched by the flames. It doesn’t really stop, one image follows after the other. An uneasy feeling settles in his stomach. He feels a soft nudge and looks up. The look on Monty’s face is one of concern.  


“You okay?” he softly asks. Jasper swallows, then flashes a weak smile. He nods slowly.  


“I will be,” he answers, barely audible. Monty focusses his attention to the tv-screen again, and Jasper stares at their Christmas tree spreading a soft light across the room. He spots a few of the decorations with a note attached to them, reminds himself that he needs to put up his own as well. He’s already written them, a small message scribbled on a small piece of paper for each of them to read when they get home after boxing day. He hears the screams on tv and tries to cancel them out. The feeling hasn’t left the pit of his stomach. Absentmindedly he notes that the movie’s finally ended. 

There’s a moment in which they wonder if it’s time for Murphy to go yet, a question that goes unspoken. Murphy doesn’t feel like leaving yet, even if it’s getting late. He likes it here. Here they are, people who don’t particularly hate him and whom he doesn’t want to choke. Well, most of the time. And they actually seem to be having fun, or are grateful to have him around tonight. Murphy feels like he should savor the moment. So he does.  


“You got another?” Bellamy eventually asks. Clarke yawns but doesn’t protest. Monty offers Jasper his blanket and goes to get another one. There’s a confused look on Murphy’s face before a grin spreads.  


“Yeah,” he nods, getting the box. He tosses it to Monty, who’s now standing in front of the DVD-player and catches it smoothly.  


“Black Christmas?”   


“It’s good,” Murphy says. Jasper purses his lips together. He looks profoundly conflicted as he mumbles something. The movie starts to play, and Jasper’s eyes are drawn to the screen even if he doesn’t want them to be. Monty’s next to him, radiant and warm, calmly observing everything that’s happening in the movie. Clarke yelps a few times. Bellamy looks with a mixture of horror, disgust and whatever positive feeling you get from watching a horror movie. Relieve, maybe. Gladness that it isn’t happening to you.

Monty doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy to not live in a sorority or fraternity house. He leans sideways, lets his arm touch Jasper’s, revels in the feeling. Jasper shivers but doesn’t move. Monty notices how his breath hitches. Bellamy mutters something under his breath. Monty watches the movie. Jasper’s fingers find his arm, squeeze slightly. Jasper’s gripping his blanket with his other hand, clenching it, clinging to it like it’s a lifeline. His knees are drawn to his chest.  


He isn’t enjoying this movie at all.  


Murphy’s face is clouded with disgust and some weird fascination. Monty offers Jasper his hand, which he immediately grabs. Jasper doesn’t look away from the tv, can’t bring himself to. He needs to know how the horror ends. The feeling still lingers. His fingers are entangled with Monty, and he thinks that that might be the only reason that his heart is not pounding out his chest and bile isn’t rising up his throat. He’s never gonna sleep again.

“I’m very glad I haven’t joined a sorority,” Clarke says when the film has ended. Murphy chuckles.  


“It’s always sorority girls, isn’t it?” he asks. Clarke blows a raspberry.   


“Yeah,” she agrees. “Thanks for ruining Christmas, by the way.”  


“I can’t have ruined Christmas,” Murphy says, protesting, “I brought fudge. And chips. And beer.”  


“And popcorn,” Monty helpfully adds.  


“Yeah, exactly,” Murphy says. Clarke’s laughing and rolls her eyes.  


“Okay, maybe you didn’t ruin it, but these movies came pretty close.”  


“Whatever.”  


“I liked it,” Bellamy chips in. “Nicely themed.”  


“Chyeah,” Jasper weakly agrees. He untangles his hand from Monty’s and gets up. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” 

 

Monty waves Murphy goodbye before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. There’s no one there, so Jasper must’ve already finished. There’s a quick two minutes in which he brushes his teeth, and another quick minute in which he brushes his hair and shrugs off the sweater he’s been wearing for the past days that really needs to be washed. When he leaves the bathroom Bellamy’s on the verge of entering it.  


“Sleep tight Monty,” he says before brushing past him.  


“You too, Bellamy,” Monty says, “I quite liked tonight.”  


“Yeah, Murphs definitely has earned some bonuspoints with it, hasn’t he?”  


“He still needs to cook next time he comes in unannounced,” Monty clarifies, dead-pan. Bellamy smiles.  


“Of course,” he says. “Good night.”  


“Night,” Monty says again, and he walks across the hallway to his and Jasper’s room. He takes off his shirt as he walks into the room. Jasper’s in his  boxers and a t-shirt. He must be cold.  


“You need to get up early, Jasp?” Monty asks as he changes into long pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. There’s a delayed response, but eventually Jasper shakes his head. Monty frowns. Jasper seems distracted. The last time he’d seen him this absent was on the anniversary of his parent’s death. Then it clicks.  


“Jasp, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jasper’s voice is shaky. There’s a sniff Monty’s not supposed to hear. Monty closes the door, then flops down onto his bed. Jasper flicks off his light, and suddenly their room is covered in darkness.   


“I’m working the afternoon shift tomorrow,” Monty softly says.  


“You’ll be home late?” Jasper assumes. Monty nods, then realizes Jasper can’t see that he’s nodding, so he verbalizes his answer. There isn’t much of a conversation after that, as there sometimes is. They just lie in the dark, shifting, waiting to fall asleep. Monty’s tired, but not that tired. Only three days until Christmas. He’ll be leaving for boxing day, spending Christmas with his family, leaving Jasper behind. Usually, Jasper would go to visit his aunt, his godmother who’d taken him in after his parent’s accident when he was eighteen. He hadn’t lived with her for a long time, but it had been enough. Monty thinks it must’ve felt weird, living the time between high school and university in a place that wasn’t quite meant to be yours. Jasper’s parents had been there for his graduation. It was that summer the accident occurred; they were on their way to celebrate one of their first holidays together, without Jasper. It’d been a struggle for a long time. Jasper’d felt that if he’d maybe come, or tried to stop his parents from going, he could’ve prevented it from happening. His aunt had made sure he got counseling right away. Monty was glad she did; he’d firsthand seen how hard it was on Jasper, and there’d been only so much he could do. So usually, Jasper’d go and visit his aunt, but this year his aunt was visiting his uncle and other family a few states away. She’d invited Jasper to come too, but he didn’t like flying, and he still had to work night shifts here and there. So he’d kindly declined and said it would be fine, that they’d catch up next year. He still tells them he will be fine, but Monty knows how much he dislikes being alone.

Monty hears Jasper turn around, and then again, and again. Restless.

“Monts?” he eventually whispers. “You remember when I used to sleep over in high school? I kinda miss that.”  


“You can always go and lie on the floor next to my bed if you want,” Monty jokes. Jasper snorts.   


“You come over here,” Jasper retorts, then shifts again. “No, I mean- can we push our beds together?”  


There’s a silence that lasts about a minute, and Jasper fears he’s said something wrong. Monty feels his heart race. Jasper sleeping next to him should be nothing exciting. They’ve done it numerous times. It’s no big deal. Shouldn’t be, anyway.  


“Yes,” Monty’s answer is soft. He flicks on the light above his bed, gets up and shoves his night stand out of the way. “Just don’t steal my blanket,” he warns.  


“I would never,” Jasper smiles. He pushes his bed, until the frames are touching. There’s a minigap between their mattresses, but that’s alright. He jumps onto his bed. Monty flicks the light off again.   


Jasper softly pokes a finger at his side when he’s half asleep.  


“Did you close the window?”  


“Yeah,” Monty murmurs, wrapping his blanket around himself securely. He shivers slightly.  


“It’s cold.”  


“Yeah,” Monty agrees, curling up.  


“Can I move closer?” Jasper asks, and suddenly Monty’s wide awake. His heart is beating rapidly.  


“Sure,” he says. “You know penguins huddle together to keep each other warm?”  


“I’ve watched march of the penguins, if that’s what you mean,” Jasper smiles. Anything to get his mind of that horrible horror movie. He hears Monty chuckle. The distance between them is one of uncertainty; not far enough for two neutral friends sleeping in the same bed, not close enough for lovers. Jasper moves closer.  


“I know, I was there to watch it with you,” Monty comments. “You still cold? Because I am.”  


“Yeah,” Jasper answers, “I think there might be something wrong with the thermostat.”  


“We’ll see tomorrow,” Monty yawns. “I’m not getting out of bed.”  


“Neither am I,” Jasper says, stretching out his hand. He can only vaguely make out the shape of Monty’s face in the dark. There’s a small smile tugging at his lips.  


“Good,” Monty answers, stretching his hand out as well. The backs of their hands are now touching between them. Jasper stretches out one finger, and then another, until his fingertips are dancing across the palm of Monty’s hand. Monty’s breath hitches. He links their fingers together, loosely.  
Jasper strokes gently with his thumb over the back of Monty’s hand and starts to talk in a hushed tone. Monty usually isn’t the one to forget what Jasper’s saying, but his heart is pounding out his chest and there are jolts shooting through his body, his skin is tingling. He thinks Jasper’s telling about their childhood sleepovers, lets him talk because he knows he probably needs to take his mind of the three horror movies they’ve watched tonight. Monty recalls most of their sleepovers and lets his mind wander to them.  


“Monts?” he suddenly hears, awoken from his memories. “I’m still kinda cold,” Jasper sounds tired. “ ‘m gonna scoot over and steal your blanket, okay?”  


“Not my blanket,” Monty weakly protests. Jasper’s already rolling over.  


“Your body heat then,” he mumbles, untangling their fingers and snuggling closer. They are a mess of blankets and bodies, skin pressed against skin, Jasper’s head pressed against Monty’s shoulder. Jasper’s hand rests against Monty’s chest. He must feel his heart beat loudly. Monty carefully wraps his arms around Jasper. Jasper mumbles something. Monty needs a moment before he realizes what it is Jasper’s said. 

“Just like penguins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! If you want to share your thoughts, please do so and leave a comment! :)


	3. If You Can't Beat the Heat (Stay out of the Kitchen?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DO-DIDDLEY-DONE IT. IT'S STILL BOXING DAY AND THIS CHAPTER IS COMPLETE  
> (also long-ass and all over the place, but I hope y'all forgive me)
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy this! I think the amount of Christmas this chapter actually reaches its peak, which would kind make sense. Also, this is the chapter we do actually find out why you shouldn't let Murphy and Jasper be alone! Even though my original plans were a bit more...excessive?
> 
> anyhow, happy holidays! I hope y'all had a great Christmas!
> 
> as per usual, unbeta'd so if there's any mistakes I'd like to hear it!

It is kinda awkward and nice to awake the way Monty does, his best friend clung to him like a koala bear. It’s warm, which is nice, because their room is certainly not. There really must be something wrong with the thermostat.  
It’s early. There’s a few rays of light trickling through the window, even though the large industrial window is frozen. There’s snow in the windowsill.

There’s snow.

Monty stirs, moves his head to take a closer look. There’s actual snow? Jasper murmurs something in his sleep and moves a few inches, continues to sleep with his mouth open. He’s now sprawled out like a starfish, one arm and leg swung over Monty. Monty can’t imagine it being very comfortable, but he doesn’t know how he lies when he’s asleep, so he doesn’t think he can really judge. He takes a second look at the window and gently shakes Jasper.  


“Jasp,” he whispers, softly shaking his best friend’s shoulder. “Jasper.”  
Jasper’s eyes slowly open. There’s a small smile playing across his lips that makes Monty’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” Jasper says sleepily, stretching out his hand. He touches Monty’s cheek gently, sighs before he closes his eyes again. Then he blinks a few times, and a confused look appears on his face. Awkwardly he removes his hand, smile faltering. He frowns.  


“Jasp,” Monty says, and he feels his cheeks heat up. “There’s snow.”  


“Wha- what?” Jasper says. That was not what he was expecting. He expected some kind of ‘stop being weird’ or a ‘please get out my bed’. He had not expected a comment on the weather. Not when- _this_ had happened. 

Jasper turns around to look at the window, and then realizes he’s lying in his own bed, that their beds were just simply pushed together. He must’ve moved enthusiastically in his sleep, resulting in- this. He looks at the window, and there’s indeed snow lining up the windowsill. He kinda misses Monty’s warmth. There must be something wrong with the thermostat, because the cold is dawning upon his skin. He ignores his desire to get closer to Monty, to press his back against his best friends body and goddamn _spoon_. That isn’t how _friendship_ works. Usually, Jasper assumes. He lies there, staring at the snow, and realizes he’s uncharacteristicly silent.  


Monty stares at the back of Jasper’s head, wondering if there was something he said wrong. The gap between him and Jasper is like a gaping hole sucking up all the heat in the room. He gives his all to not make a move, to not make this awkward. He doesn’t want to ruin anything, doesn’t want to endanger what he already has. It’s the way it has always been. Touching was always aloud, but to a certain extend. There have always been boundaries. There’s this silence, and Jasper’s still staring at the window, and Monty doesn’t know what to do. They don’t really have to get up yet, seeing it’s somewhere around seven and it’s still dark outside, and they both don’t have an early shift. He’s slowly getting cold. There must be something-  


“Are we getting a white Christmas?” Jasper eventually says, shifting again. While he waits for Monty to answer his mind replays last night’s events. He tries to skip the horror movies, get right to when they went to sleep. Is there a line he has crossed? Did he want to-

He wants to. His breath hitches and he stares up to the ceiling, then shifts again to look at Monty. His best friend. Housemate. Roommate. Brother from another mother, amigo, whatever you want to call it. Monty. 

It isn’t like he’s ever imagined his life with anybody else.

They are close. Monty seems to be contemplating an answer, eyes fixated on the window. There are probably a lot of meteorological calculations going on in that genius brain of his, things Jasper only half understands thanks to Geography in high school. Jasper can feel his heart, as if it’s bound to pound right out of his chest. His eyes lock on Monty’s lips, and he can feel himself frowning, because this wonder, this desire isn’t as new as he expected it to be. It has been there for a long time, only snuck out when his system was too busy processing alcohol to sort out its thoughts. But there’s no alcohol rushing through his veins now, only his blood. In a sense, the feeling is new now he’s stonecold sober. It kinda crushes him, hitting him like a truck. There are no pieces falling into place, just a rush of memories and things that make so much more sense now he knows what the feeling is.  
He’s so _royally_ fucked.

Monty can feel Jasper’s eyes on his face, doesn’t dare to look him directly in the eye. The heat’s still spread across his cheeks.  


“ I reckon,” he eventually says. “It’s only two days away, so-,” his voice falters as he switches his focus to the boy lying next to him. They both breathe. Jasper’s eyes flicker to Monty’s lips and back to his eyes. Monty softly sighs, heart beating vividly, like it has been for the past couple of moments. He can feel Jasper’s breath on his lips. Is this-  


Monty presses his lips to Jasper’s. It’s short, nothing more than an impression of what a kiss could be like, a spark that could start a fire. The contact lasts only a mere heartbeat, but it’s enough. Or rather, it isn’t quite enough, but neither boys dare to admit it. Monty’s heart is racing.  
Jasper’s eyes are big.

“Sorry,” he says, but it doesn’t sound like an apology. It isn’t. Monty wants to move away, clearly scared of what he’s just done. Jasper rests his hand at the base of his neck, lets their foreheads touch. Monty shakes. Jasper rubs his thumb gently across Monty’s cheek, breathes out slowly. Did it really happen?  


It happened. 

It _happened_ , and Monty’s internally freaking out. Jasper doesn’t look freaked out. Why does he-

Monty frowns. There’s a pair of warm lips pressing against his own, and it feels like his heart is stuck in his throat. Monty closes his eyes and kisses back, carefully, delicately. Jasper makes a surprises noise, as if he didn’t expect the response. He didn’t. 

They break apart. Monty let’s his eyes closed for a moment. This must be a pipe dream. A very realistic, too good to be true _dream._ Jasper opens his eyes, his heart calming down, a diffuse tingle spreading across his lips. Monty’s eyes are still closed.  
He’s still royally fucked.

With a soft sigh he turns to lie on his back. He stares at the ceiling and lets the silence wash over them, not entirely uncomfortable. If anything it’s uncertain. It feels like either one is supposed to say something, to do something.

He starts to sing. He’s out of ideas how to respond to this situation, so he just copes in this ridiculous way that he know will make Monty smile. And Monty smiles, right before he opens his eyes and looks Jasper straight into his as Jasper turns his head to look at Monty. They are both furiously blushing.  


“ _I’m dreaming of a white Christmas_ ,” Jasper softly sings. “ _just like the ones I used to know,_ ”  


“ _Where the treetops glisten,”_ Monty joins, “ _and children listen,”  
_

_“-to hear sleigh bells in the snow,”_ they sing together, nothing more than a soft whisper. Monty’s still smiling. Jasper starts to feel drowsy again.  


“ _I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write,”  
_

_“May your days be merry and bright,”_ Monty complements.  


“ _And may all your Christmases be white.”_

Monty hums the melody of the song, making Jasper smile. He can feel the words slip away. The cold’s crawling over his skin, and he shivers. For a moment he closes his eyes, just listening to Monty’s smooth voice. He’s a good singer. Jasper joins weakly, feeling utterly at peace. If he wasn’t so cold, he could easily fall asleep like this. Monty finishes the song and Jasper’s eyes flutter open.  


“Monts?” he asks, scanning his best friend’s face. There’s a flicker of concealed fear, and something undeniably like hope. Monty murmurs his answer, a sound made to form like a ‘yeah?’. 

“ ‘m still cold and sleepy.”  


“Me too,” Monty sighs, resting his hand against Jasper’s chest. He watches as Jasper tries to formulate his next sentence, waits anxiously but patiently. Jasper tries to find a way around what he’s trying to say, tries to bring it subtly. He can’t.  


“Can we- is it okay if we, eh-,” he stumbles, averting his eyes before looking at Monty again. “I want to cuddle.” It sounds more like a question than a certainty. “With you. If that’s- eh, okay?”  


“Yeah, yes,” Monty slowly nods, cheeks red, “me too. We can, eh-, we can spoon?”  
Jasper’s face lights up. He looks relieved. There’s a short nod before he moves.

“Damn thermostat,” Jasper jokes as he turns around. He snuggles closer, lets his back connect with Monty’s body. Monty’s breath tickles his neck, and it’s weird in a good way. Warm. It takes a few moments before they’re both in a comfortable position. There’s a lot of shifting before they have found a postion in which their arms aren’t completely crushed or sandwiched uncomfortably. Monty hesitantly slings his arm around Jasper’s waist, which Jasper immediately reacts to. He rests his arm atop Monty’s and leans into the touch. Monty presses a soft kiss to the base of his neck, and Jasper hums contently, falling asleep slowly. Monty’s eyes flutter close, and his heart stills. It’s good, it’s all unbelievably good.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, you know if Jasper and Monty are awake yet?” Clarke asks, prodding the scrambled eggs on her plate. “I don’t think I’ve seen them yet.”  
Bellamy shrugs.

“They’ll be awake soon enough,” he says, opening his laptop. He types away, sighs. Clarke shrugs and continues eating her eggs.  


“I’ll go knock,” Bellamy says, shutting his laptop close. “I take it you want to unwrap today’s presents before we’re all off to work?”  


“Well, before I’m off babysitting, yeah,” Clarke smiles. “You have any shifts before Christmas?”  


Bellamy shakes his head, elbows resting atop the counter.  


“Mini-holiday, woohoo,” he says, “I start again on the 28th.”  


“What are your plans for boxing day?”  


“Visit O and Lincoln,” Bellamy answers, shrugging, “Indra’s gonna be there. It’s gonna be as much as a Christmas dinner as I’ll ever get. I’ll stay over and then come home somewhere in the afternoon of boxing day.”  


“We’re spending Christmas eve here, right? Together?” Clarke asks. She doesn’t remember any agreements being made, so she’s checking. Bellamy nods.  


“Okay,” she says, nodding. “We gotta organize it then, decide what we want to eat, do the grocery shopping. Cook together.”  


“Sounds like a plan to me,” Bellamy says, “let’s go over it after the unwrapping.” 

He rises to his feet, walking towards Jasper’s and Monty’s room. He knocks a few times, calls their names. He can hear some noise from the other side of the door.  


“Monty, Jasper, I’m gonna come in,” he warns after knocking one last time before opening the door.Bellamy pushes the door open. Jasper’s sitting up right in his bed, which is pushed against Monty’s. His hair is sticking up in every direction. He blearily rubs in his eyes.  


“Wha-?” he asks, yawning.  


“Time to get up,” Bellamy simply says before shutting the door close. With raised eyebrows he walks into the dining area. Clarke looks at him curiously.  


“What’s the matter?” she asks. She has finally finished her breakfast and now looks at Bellamy with her head tilted. He knows she’s trying to read him, trying to figure out if she can get any clues just by looking at him.  


“Nothing much,” Bellamy says, walking towards the fridge. “Monty and Jasper pushed their beds together.”  


“Cool,” Clarke decides, uncertain what to do with the information. Bellamy shrugs, physically saying ‘I don’t know either’. He takes a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and raises it.

“You want some?”  


“Sure,” she says cheerfully.  


“Good morning,” Jasper yawns as he enters the kitchen. He still looks a little ruffled, but he figures he’s allowed to, as he practically literally rolled out of bed this just a few moments ago. “Ah, I’d like a glass as well, please.”  
Bellamy pours another glass of orange juice and slides it across the counter towards Jasper. Jasper barely stops it in time, the juice sloshing over the brim of the glass. He hums as he puts two slices of bread in the toaster.

“Slept well?” he asks, turning on the gas and preparing scrambled eggs.  


“Sure,” Bellamy nods. “Not that long, but it was okay.”  


“How was your run?”  


“Slippery,” Bellamy laughs. “Miller joined us. First corner we rounded he fell flat on his face. Wish I’d caught it on camera. His face was priceless.” 

Jasper laughed. He could exactly imagine the look on Miller’s face.  


“Hey guys, aren’t you cold?” Monty asks, entering the room. He rakes his hair with his hand. Clarke blinks at him from under a blanket. She’s wearing her warmest sweater, a t-shirt, sweat pants, fluffy socks, and atop of that she’s wrapped in a fleece. She can’t say she’s cold. She shakes her head, Monty looks at Bellamy, who’s merely wearing a button-up and jeans. He shrugs.  


“It’s kinda chilly,” he admits, but then again he’s never really cold. “Maybe more chilly than usual.”  


“It was freezing in our room. We thought it might be the thermostat,” Jasper says. Bellamy frowns.

“Maybe it’s just the heating?” Clarke suggests. Monty takes a slice of toast.  


“Yeah, probably,” he agrees, a blush spreading across his cheeks. They chat away at breakfast, discussing what they should do for Christmas eve. They all remember last year’s disaster- a spontaneous defective oven, burnt chicken, mashed potatoes all over the kitchen walls and scorch marks on the tablecloth because in some way a candle tipped over and they barely stopped the cloth from catching fire. Jasper’d say it was kinda entertaining, but that’s mostly because he’s pretty used to Christmas dinners going wrong and things catching fire. Let’s just say that his family aren’t really a family of chefs. His father was quite good at cooking, but his aunt- not so much. 

They all agree to keep it simple. Slow-cooking dishes with not that much preparation. Monty will take care of the _horse d’eouvre,_ Bellamy and Jasper take care of the main, and Clarke will make sure there’s dessert. They discuss the dishes- what not to cook, their allergies even if they all know them by heart by now, what they all like- and settle for a simple three-course menu they all look forward to.  


“Who’s going to do the shopping?” Clarke asks. “I don’t have the time, seeing I have to babysit in a few.”  


“I can pick up some groceries on the way home from work.”  


“Then you’ll have to take a detour,” Jasper says, shaking his head. “I’ll do the shopping before I head to work.”  


“I can accompany you,” Bellamy offers, “carry the groceries back home. I got time to spare.”  


“Cool,” Jasper nods. “Sounds like a plan,” he says, and he high-fives everyone. Clarke gets a look on her face, then hops off her chair. The boys curiously looks at her as she moves through the room. She turns up the volume of the radio and grins brightly.

“Why couldn’t it be Christmas everyday,” she sings, just out of time with the radio. She drops the blanket and makes a few awkward dance moves. “Come on guys, join me!” she pouts before continuing her little dance. Jasper makes a few weird arm movements as he joins her in the living room. Bellamy and Monty look at each other, smiling because of their ridiculous friends, then join them in the living room. Clarke starts distributing the presents. When the song is finished she sits down, grinning widely.  


“Together?” she asks. She counts down and they open the presents at the same time. Jasper giggles as he sees their faces.  


“Plates?” Bellamy frowns. Clarke snorts.  


“Dedication to the fullest,” she says.  


“At least now we don’t have to fight about the plates and mugs anymore,” Monty comments, studying the plate in his hand. It’s a slightly different green than his mug is. Jasper grins.  


“It isn’t the only thing I got you though,” he says as he unpacks his own present. He’s looking at a yellow mug, his name sprawled across it in neat cursive, like it’s on all the other’s mugs. He makes a surprised noise, then laughs. Judging by Clarke’s and Bellamy’s faces they aren’t the one responsible for the gift. Monty grins.  


“Thought you’d join the club,” he says, smiling. He knows Jasper knows he actually kinda dislikes green, so he went with a dubious yellow-orange that few people actually like. Unlike Jasper he didn’t paint the whole mug, just the letters on it, but it looks pretty neat nonetheless. It fits right in with the rest of the mugs. Clarke’s laughing.  


“We’re gonna use it for breakfast tomorrow and I’m gonna send my mum a pic of it,” she laughs. “This is glorious.” 

“I’m glad you enjoy it,” Jasper smiles. Clarke unwraps her next gift, which is a pair of knitted socks. “Not the prettiest, but still very comfy. I hope I got all the right sizes.”  


Bellamy immediately puts on his socks.  


“My feet were freezing,” he says, stretching his toes and smiling brightly. It’s the first pair of knitted socks he’s actually gotten, he thinks. When he was little he used to get books for Christmas. It used to frustrate Octavia to no end, because she wasn’t that fond of reading- she’d rather get track shoes, or something more interactive, something she could use. She’d still read the books in the end. It was some kind of tradition for her, in her own way. It never stopped her from complaining tho. 

“More green?” Monty asks, then sighs. Of course there would be more green. Jasper is smirking as he unwraps his own self-made socks. He holds up another pair of green socks.  


“We match,” he says, smiling at Monty. Bellamy and Clarke both see how there’s another blush creeping up Monty’s cheeks. They don’t comment, just continue unpacking. There’s a miniature snow globe in the next packet.  


“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Clarke squeals. “Oh, this is perfect!” 

Jasper shakes his snow globe ferociously and watches as the miniature snow falls down. Bellamy carefully places the globe on their tabletop and watches as the others unpack his gift. It’s nothing big, just the tickets to a film they all want to see. He had to triple check each calendar and every agenda, but he found a moment available to all of them.  


“Fuck yeah,” Jasper mutters. Monty’s grinning, just like Clarke. They all know it’s Bellamy who’s given them the tickets. After they opened the last presents they loiter around, not doing much.  


“Should we go outside?” Jasper wonders aloud. Bellamy perks up.

“Heck yeah,” he says, as if he’s been waiting for it. “Get dressed. I want revenge for three years ago.”

 

* * *

 

“We really should create some kind of tactic,” Jasper says. Monty looks at him with a confused look.  


“You know I’m on Bellamy’s team, right?”  


“Oh,” Jasper says as he shrugs on a sweater. He frowns. “Huh, that’s true,” he says, recalling their snowball fight from three years ago. He’d been soaked to the bone at the end of the evening. 

“I’ll set my alarm for work,” Monty murmurs, putting on another layer.  


“Guys, I’m going to get Ethan!” Clarke yells through the door. “He’s on my team!” Jasper opens their door and high-fives Clarke, because that means that Ethan’s gonna be on his team too.  


“I’ll get Murphy!” Bellamy yells back.  


“He’s not an infant!” Clarke protests.  


“Yeah he is!” Bellamy responds, causing Monty to snort. Clarke yells one last thing before she’s out the door.  


“I’ll meet you outside!”  


Bellamy, Jasper and Monty gather in the living room before heading outside and locking the door. Jasper is sure to grab his waterproof gloves. He doesn’t want his fingers to be freezing off. Monty’s wrapped himself with a ridiculously large scarf gifted by his grandma. It’s chaotic outside; they aren’t the only ones who decided to enjoy the snow, but there’s also people trying to get places, which make it that more chaotic but fun. Once they’ve spotted Clarke they start heading towards the park, which is three blocks away from their apartment. Ethan happily skips along the sidewalk.  


“Lift me!” he says happily. Clarke takes one hand, and Jasper takes the other. He swings in between them, kicking his legs and squealing. He’s so delighted it’s hard to be annoyed by the fuss he makes for the other people on the sidewalk. When they arrive at the park they are greeted by Murphy, who’s throwing a perfectly round snowball in the air and catching it. He looks kinda intimidating, in the way he always does. There’s a smirk playing across his lips.  


“I’ve been called to a fight?” he says.  


“We’re going to fight?” Ethan’s eyes are big, full of dispair.  


“You remember Spiderman and his friends? Sometimes they need to fight evil,” Clarke says, crouching before him. “And we’re going to fight Bellamy. With snow.” Ethan’s face breaks and now he’s grinning.  


“Snow fight!” he yells, picking up snow and throwing it in the air. Jasper laughs when the boy looks stunned as the snow hits his face again. Suddenly,  Bellamy is tackled.  


“Big bro!” Octavia yells. “You ready for Christmas dinner on Christmas day?”  


“Not as ready as I to woop Clarke’s ass,” Bellamy answers. Octavia looks deviously interested. She raises one sharp eyebrow.  


“Snowball fight?” she asks. “What are the teams?”  


“Bellamy, Monty and Murphy VS Team Awesome,” Jasper smirks. “That would be Clarke, Ethan here, and me.”  


“More like Team Marginally Okay,” Octavia smirks. Lincoln wanders over to them.  


“What are you saying, sweetcakes?” he smiles.  


“I’m totally going to safe my brother,” Octavia says. “Let’s join forces, big bro.”  


“Allright lil’ sis,” Bellamy grins.  


“Hey!” Jasper protests, “that would be four against three. Well, two and a half. You can hardly call that a fair fight.”  


“I’ll join your team,” Lincoln says. Octavia gasps, pretending to look shocked. Lincoln just smiles at her. “Scared?” he asks. She tries to look insulted.  


“Me? Scared of you?” she says, “nuh-uh. It’s on like Donkey Kong.”  


“Wait, who’s doing the countdown?” Monty asks. A snowball hits Clarke right in the face. Murphy’s laughing as Clarke wipes the snow off her face.  


“Who needs a count down anyway?” he asks. Clarke breathes.  


“You. Because I’m about to _murder you._ ”  


Murphy’s eyes grow wide. He turns around and starts to run, which really is the best he can do in this situation. Bellamy laughs. It’s not a great idea to piss off Clarke the first minute of the snow fight.  


“Okay,” they faintly hear him say as he hides himself behind a tree. Lincoln and Jasper run off with Ethan. 

“Do we have any tactics?” Lincoln asks, looking at the others.  


“Hit as many enemies as we can!” Ethan yells enthusiastically. Jasper shrugs.  


“He’s not wrong,” he admits. “That would be the best tactic. I know O’s a deadly shot, but she’s not that good at making decent snowballs. Now Bellamy’s good all around, but he doesn’t really hide. I don’t know what’s up with Murphy, but I think Clarke’s taking care of that. Monty’s usually the one sneaking around while you’re distracted by the others.”  


“How many times have you done this exactly?” Lincoln wonders aloud. Jasper gives a small shrug.  


“Too many times.”  


“I’ll go for Monty,” Lincoln decides. “Ethan, you and Jasper need to hit the others with as many snow balls as you can. Find allies if you can. We’re going to woop some ass.”  


“Yeah!” Ethan yells, pumping a fist in the air. He runs away from the tree they were hiding behind. Jasper sighs, then immediately runs after the boy, scooping up as much snow as he can muster and rapidly forming them into snowballs. His aim isn’t the best, but the pace at which he can makes snowballs makes up for that.  


“You ready Ethan?” he asks in a hushed tone. The boy nods, and they surge forward. It’s a mess of snow, laughter and yells. Ethan actually manages to hit Octavia and Bellamy quite few times. There’s a yelp, and that’s how they know Lincoln has found Murphy. Clarke comes surging and recklessly launches a serie of snowballs at Octavia from behind.

Which must mean that Monty’s still sneaking around somewhere.  


“Ethan, help Clarke. I’m gonna find the missing member of the other team.”  


“Yes sir!” he responds and takes of to tackle Bellamy, without much succes. Jasper has a feeling where Monty might be hiding out, so he sneaks around the trees and manages to sneak up to Monty. In one movement he scoops his arms full of snow. With one last step and a ‘boo’ he unloads the snow right atop Monty’s shoulders, who’s spying on the others, crouching. He flat out screams. There’s a curse that leaves his lips that Jasper’s never heard before, and then Jasper’s on the ground. Before he knows it there’s snow everywhere. Monty’s laughing, pinning him down when he tries to escape.  


“And here I was thinking I got you,” Jasper manages to spit out despite the snow in his mouth. It’s freezing.  


“Seems like it’s the other way around,” Monty smirks.  


“Oh, you got me,” Jasper observes, “so it was your plan all along?” Jasper asks, raising his eyebrows. Monty blinks before grinning, but not without a flush on his cheeks. Could be the cold, Jasper tells himself, ignoring the ambiguity of what he’s just said. It’s not like it’s a lie, anyway.  


“Maybe,” Monty eventually says, slowly releasing Jasper. He can’t do any damage too if he keeps Jasper pinned down. Jasper remains lying on the ground for a few seconds before he gets up and immediately tackles Monty to the ground. He slips, falling atop of Monty, laughing. His legs are freezing because the snow has soaked his pants. With an ‘oompf’ Monty hits the ground.  


“You’re such a smooth operator,” he comments, heart throbbing. Jasper props himself up.  


“Always try to be,” he breathes, trying to catch his breath. The fall had knocked the air out of his lungs. Monty gets up too, grabbing a fistful of snow and shoving it in Jasper’s neck.  


“Holy frick,” Jasper yelps, gasping. “That’s cold.” He can feel the snow melt, trickling down his back in perfect drops. Monty’s still grinning.  


“I win,” he says. Jasper raises his eyebrows, and there’s a look on his face that Monty knows all too well. It’s the look that says ‘I’m gonna prove you wrong’. He starts to run, but is met in the crossfire of the others. Jasper comes after him and tackles him again, smug smile on his face as he rubs snow in Monty’s hair.  


“You lose,” he concludes. Monty coughs. Clarke is resting with her palms on her knees, panting. Even Octavia looks tired. Ethan’s running around with another boy.  


“Aden!” There’s a voice calling the other boy. “Time to go home!”  


“Oh shit,” Monty curses, “I’ve only got half an hour before I have to go to work.”  


“Let’s head back home then,” Bellamy nods. “I can use a shower.”  


“I think we all can,” Murphy concludes.  


“Ethan,” Clarke stretches out her hand for the boy to take.  


“Can we walk home with Aden?” the boy asks, eyes big. “He lives in the same building!”  


“Sure,” Clarke nods. Ethan rushes towards the other boy, who’s about five years older than he is. She follows the little guy running. There’s a woman standing next to the other boy, brown hair braided, a soft pink scarf wrapped around her neck. Clarke watches as Ethan darts around the two before they head their way towards them. Clarke breathes in sharply as the woman looks directly at her.  


“Hey,” she says, “Ethan told us you live in the same building as us. You must be Clarke,” she stretches out her hand. Clarke hesitantly shakes it. There’s a small smile playing across the woman’s lips.  


“I’m Lexa.”  


 

* * *

 

It’s Christmas eve, or rather, afternoon. They’re all busy dancing around in the kitchen, loudly laughing and singing. Yesterday Clarke had invited Octavia and Raven over for one of their infamous Ex On the Beach marathons, or Are You The One, or whatever MTV dating drama they were watching. It had started out as a Girl’s Night In, with Jasper and Monty at work and Bellamy chatting with some girl named Gina in his room. He said they were working on a project together, but Clarke didn’t know how much of that she actually believed. She didn’t really care anyway, Bellamy was a grown man allowed to tell what he wanted to tell them. Her talk with Lexa had been exceptionally good, which had led to them exchanging numbers- a fact she was absolutely gleeful about. They had invited Harper over as well, who brought along Zoe- or Monroe, as she wanted to be called. It had been fun. Monty had come home quite early from his shift. It had been quiet, and they were working with an extra employee, so his boss had let him go home early. He’d joined the girls with some leftovers he’d put in the microwave. Jasper’d come in somewhere near midnight, immediately stumbling towards his bed. He was usually the one to join the girls as well, but he was absolutely exhausted. There had been an excessive amount of cursing directed towards him. He actually thought it had been the same customer as before, calling him a dictionary’s worth of homophobic slurs. At one point he’d started to cancel out the cursing, but it still didn’t feel right. Especially not when- well, what happened that morning. The whole kissing Monty thing. Something he still wasn’t sure actually happened. They hadn’t spoken about it, there hadn’t been a word. It was possible Jasper’d just made everything up. He’d let himself fall on his bed and didn’t get up, work uniform be damned. He’d vaguely heard everyone leave and Monty enter the room. There was this possibility that Bellamy had looked at the heating in their room, because it wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been that morning. Monty’d snuck across the room, quietly lying down next to him and putting his blanket atop of Jasper before wishing him good night. Clarke had walked into her own bedroom, exhausted and a bit tipsy, but certainly entertained. She loved these nights where she’d just lie on the couch surrounded by her friends, glass of wine in her hand and all the relationship drama she’d never get in real life on the tv. Most of the time they were chatting anyway.

And now she’s here with her other noobs of friends. The radio’s playing on the loudest volume, blaring every popular Christmas song in existence, and they are singing along. 

“Let’s do the final unwrapping before we really need to start preparing for dinner,” Bellamy offers. Clarke nods, insisting. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes.  


“Sounds like a plan to me,” she grins. Monty shrugs.  


“Okay,” he says. They gather around the tree, taking turns with unwrapping their gifts. Once one of them has unwrapped a present, they pick up another one that is to be unwrapped. Clarke ends up with a load of art supplies she’s over the moon with. Bellamy gets a few books, a voucher to go lasergaming, the newest season of the Walking Dead and a wooden spoon. He frowns at the last gift, but shrugs, because he always forgets where the wooden spoon is when he needs it.  


“Oh no,” Jasper mumbles as he opens his first gift. It’s Animal Crossing. He looks at Clarke, who’s beaming brightly.  


“I know you love it,” she says. “Got it secondhand, but it’s working well enough.”  
“Well I know what I’ll be doing the rest of the holidays,” Jasper snickers. “Thank you.”

Clarke also gets all of them Singstar, which will be either a horrible or a horribly brilliant idea. There’s no in-between. Monty’s face is pure delight as he sees the game.  


“You know we have to play this tonight, right?” he asks. Clarke’s grin grows wider.  


“Oh, I counted on it,” she says. Bellamy groans, but he doesn’t look annoyed. Monty and Jasper both get each other a stuffed toy Squirtle, and they laugh about it because _of course they would_.  


“I’m so glad you’re all my housemates,” Clarke says when they’ve all unwrapped their gifts. “I can’t imagine living with any other boys.”  


“Aww, thank you,” Jasper coos. “We love you too, boo.”  


“Speak for yourself,” Monty jokes, but then shakes his head. “I’m glad you’re my housemates too.”  


“Same,” Jasper says, getting up. “I’m getting pretty hungry though, so we should start cooking!”  
Monty doesn’t miss a beat and gets to his feet. Bellamy sets the table while Clarke takes care of all the candles and decorations. Jasper cuts up the last things for the main course. It doesn’t take long before the soup is ready. Dinner’s fun, and the food’s pretty decent. There’s no food on the walls this year, so it’s definitely progress. They joke about it, enjoying their food.

“Merry Christmas!” Clarke chimes before taking the first bite.  


“Merry Christmas!” They all echo. The music takes over the noise in the room for a moment, and then they’re chatting away again. It’s a good night.

 

* * *

 

“Jasp, honey, I gotta go! I’ll be back tomorrow evening,” Clarke hugs Jasper tight. She’s the last one to leave on Christmas day. Bellamy left early in the morning, and not long after Monty left as well. Jasper understands, but can’t help but feel a tad bit sad. He’s got a call scheduled with his aunt, and then he’ll probably go play Animal Crossing for the rest of the afternoon, heat up the leftovers of yesterday and watch all the home alone films while he drowns his childish longings with cheap wine, or relatively less cheap rum. 

“Have a good Christmas,” Jasper says, hugging Clarke back. “And bring home some leftovers!”  


“I will,” she smiles before closing the door behind her. That’s it, Jasper’s alone now. He contemplates showering for an unreasonable amount of time, but quickly throws that idea out of the window. After he’s done all the dishes he makes a call to his aunt, then he calls up his grandparents in California. They sound sleepy, like they always do, and then Jasper remembers the time difference. He always manages to forget the distance between them. They chat for a good hour, but then his grandparents announce that they want to leave for church, so they hang up. Jasper hangs around the couch, hugging his squirtle tight, taking a nap. His afternoon saunters on, crawling by slowly. He plays some video games, watches some TV, takes a shower. Nothing he wouldn’t do on a normal day. He looks through some old photos, finds one of him, Monty and his parents. It’s the one taken after their graduation. They both look unbelievably proud, their smile the brightest one Jasper can remember. It’s one of the last photos he has of them.  
He feels a sadness creeping up on him he doesn’t want to feel, so he opens a bottle of beer and starts to heat up the leftovers. He’s halfway through his dinner when there’s knocking on the door.

“Santa?” he calls, moving to open the door. Murphy’s grinning at him.  


“You wish,” he says, brushing past Jasper. “Smells good. Too bad I already had dinner.”  


“Why are you here?” Jasper asks. Murphy raises his eyebrows at him.  


“I could ask the same thing of you,” he comments.  


“True,” Jasper says admittedly as he closes the door. “Tho, this _is_ my apartment.”  


“Semantics,” Murphy says, popping a bottle of liquor out his bag, together with Mario Kart. “I had to escape. I somehow managed to end up with not one horrible stepdad, but two. Jaha is bad enough, but now there’s this ass called Titus too, and I’m not even sure how I’m supposed to be related because both my parents are dead.”  


“Mine are too,” Jasper says way too airily. Murphy turns to look at him. His face falters as the realization hits him.  


“That’s why you’re here,” he concludes. Jasper nods.  


“The rest of my family’s a few states over,” he says, “don’t have the time nor money to visit.”  


“Wish I could say the same,” Murphy says. “Jaha’s my godfather for some goddamn reason, and Titus is one of his friends, but he’s actually an asshole too. Wells isn’t that bad but we don’t really get along. And still I get invited to dinner.”  


“Why’d you go?” Jasper asks, finishing his dinner.  


“Free food,” Murphy shrugs. “I’m kinda glad you’re here. Mind if I take a look at your games?”  


“Nah, do whatever,” Jasper says, face stuffed. “I planned to watch some crappy Christmas movie.”  


“You can do so much better than that,” Murphy says. “You have fucking Just Dance and Singstar. I brought Mario Kart.”  


“What are you saying?”  


“A game op Don’t drink and drive followed by a game of don’t drink and dance?”  


“Followed by a game of don’t drink and sing?” Jasper jokes.  


“If that is what you want to call drunken Karaoke, sure.”

 

* * *

 

Usually, Octavia would visit Jasper when he was home alone. Jasper’s never liked being home alone, because he always was the kid that saw monsters in shadows and got really scared by any type of void, with maybe the exception of black holes and the void of space if he didn’t dwell on it too much. He got bored easily, or maybe not so much bored as anxious, jittery. Jasper wasn’t good at being alone. Which was why he was happy Murphy’d stopped by, even if he was now on his fourth glass of rum ’n coke and he’d already downed a glass of wine. Murphy was very different company from Octavia. Octavia would chat about her day, exchange gossip, pour a glass of wine and maybe watch a romcom. Sometimes, when she wanted to, she painted Jasper’s nails as well. If anything, Octavia dropping by was very relaxing.  


Murphy, not so much. Murphy was fun, for sure, but also foulmouthed and competitive to a level he’d probably be able to beat Bellamy’s ass just by being that driven. Jasper didn’t give up tho, or give in. By the time they were playing Just Dance it was somewhere around eleven o’clock, and Murphy was laughing his ass off as they both flailed their arms around, trying to gather as many points as they could with moving the least.  


“This is a fucking workout,” Jasper laughed as he twirled around, stumbling. He was surprised at how decent he was doing. He was actually winning. The song ended and Murphy panted.  


“I’m cancelling this fucking game,” he said, drinking his mixture of liquor and soda. “Let’s watch some brainless movie.”  


“You’ve ever seen Rise of the Guardians?”  


“What makes you think that? Do I look like someone who’s seen an animated movie?”  


“You know it’s animated,” Jasper points out, a victorious smile playing across his face. Murphy lies down on one of the two couches and grumbles.  


“Fine, I love the movie, sue me,” he says. “You got anything to snack?”  


“Sure,” Jasper says, turning off the controller and opening up a bag of chips. “Here you go.”  
They turn on the movie. Murphy is smiling at the TV. Jasper slowly feels the world slosh around him, loses track of the movie. He’s seen it about five times now, so it doesn’t really matter. He remembers Monty next to him last Christmas, both of them drunk and warm, sprawled across each other. He also vaguely recalls the taste of Monty on his lips this morning, but he still isn’t fully convinced it was real. He wants to find out, but Monty isn’t anywhere near him. He isn’t sure if he could get away with it either. ‘Hey Monty, I think I might’ve kissed you but it might also have been a very vivid dream and I want to find out which one it is and I just generally kinda want to kiss you’. Yeah, like that’d go down well. Jasper sighs, replaying memories and missing his buddy next to him. He takes another swig of his rum’n’coke and hugs his Squirtle tight. He thinks Murphy might be falling asleep.

 

Monty opens the front door of the apartment building, trying to calm his hammering heart down. Dinner had been fine, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Jasper was alone, and that he hated to be alone. It made him feel uneasy. His parents had noticed his agitation, but hadn’t spoken about it. For the biggest part of the night, everything had been okay. It was nice to be home again, but Monty noticed how his parents were bickering more than usual. After dinner, they almost got into a fight, which made Monty want to leave. He loved his parents to bits, but the tension in his childhood home combined with his general fretting over Jasper didn’t make the Christmas day to his best yet. Eventually, his parents had confronted him about it. He’d told them the story. His mother had merely smiled and sighed.  


“ I’ll drop you off,” she’d said, “go get your boy.”  


Monty had turned as red as a tomato and protested, but that hadn’t stopped his mother from insisting on dropping him off, assuring that they’d survive boxing day without them. It wasn’t like they actually celebrated boxing day. They’d always only had a Christmas dinner after high school. They agreed to pay half his tuition money if he didn’t ask anything for Christmas. So he didn’t. He’d gotten into the car, wished his father goodnight, and was dropped off at the apartment building at the middle of the night. He walks into the hall. There’s nothing to be worried about, he tells himself.  


“I’m just coming home early,” he mumbles to himself. He climbs the stairs, unlocks the front door.

Monty walks into the apartment and is immediately tackled into a hug.  


“Heyy, Monty!” Jasper yelps. “My savior!”  


He squeezes Monty tight. 

“I’m so happy I could kiss you right now,” he mumbles into his neck.

“So kiss me,” Monty says. Jasper’s breath hitches. He loosens his grip on Monty. His eyes skid across Monty’s face towards the ceiling. They are standing beneath the mistletoe.  


“What?” Jasper breathes, confused, looking Monty in the eye. Monty wets his lips. Jasper follows the movement with his eyes, feels his heart rate pick up.

“Kiss me,” Monty breathes, blinking. Jasper complies, moving forward. 

His drunken prayers have ben answered. 

They crash, collide. It is not comfortable or cute from the first instance. It’s clumsy and needy and everything you never see in movies. They bump noses before finding the right angle. They press lips together, flick tongues. It isn’t smooth or perfect. It’s a detonation. It’s the spark starting a fire. It’s frantic and uneasy and generally not that great, but it’s what they bothwant, what they both need.

They ease into the kiss. Jasper stumbles back, regains balance. Monty automatically steps forward as Jasper takes the step back. It’s hard to forget there’s anything else in the world than this, lips upon lips and hands upon skin and the pure sensation of being this close to the person he is closest to in his life.  


“No homo!” Murphy calls from their living room, and Monty can feel his heart skip a beat. He didn’t think-  


“Fuck you!” Jasper calls back towards the living room. He smiles at Monty and presses a quick kiss to his lips before heading back to the living room.  


“No thank you,” Murphy says, taking a swig of beer.  


“You’re not gonna tell me you’re some kind of homophobe, right?”  


“Nah, then I’d already have knocked you out,” Murphy shrugs, “it’s cool.”  


“Good,” Jasper says, taking a swig of his own drink. His face is undeniably red.  


“So is loverboy joining us or what? We can spice up Mario Kart, or like, move on to bigger things, since the movie’s just finished.”  


“Like?”  


There’s a mischievous glint in Murphy’s eyes.  


“Just Dance,” he says dead serious, smile tugging at his lips. Jasper groans. Monty shrugs off his coat and moves into the living room.  


“You’re on.”

 

* * *

  
  
“I don’t want a lot for Christmas,” Monty softly sings, strumming his guitar softly, “there’s just one thing I need.”  
He’s sitting on the corner of his bed, back resting against the wall. Jasper’s lying on his back, eyes trained on Monty. Murphy’s just gone home after waking on their couch, thanking Jasper for this Christmas night, looking tired but happy.

“I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree,” Monty continues. He’s singing the Michael Bublé version, calmly. Jasper can’t take his eyes off the boy as he continues the song, finishes it. Monty puts away the guitar and fumbles with his hands.  


“Half a day before the others get home,” he states. Jasper makes an agreeable noise. Monty moves his eyes towards Jasper. He feels like he’s about to swallowed whole by a black hole uncurling in his stomach. He meets Jasper’s eyes. Jasper stretches out his arm, takes Monty’s hand, fingers gently dancing across his skin. Monty’s fingers intertwine with his, and it feels like home, more than the apartment does, more than the whiff of spices after a long day of work do, more than the movie nights spent sprawled out across the couch do.  
A silence washes over them. It’s like they’re living in the static of a tv, snow on display and nothing but a distant buzz humming around them. Jasper figures that Monty won’t hate him if he says what he’s about to say.  
They’re holding hands. He kissed him. Monty kissed him back.  
There’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s _everything_ to be afraid of.

“Monty,” he says, softly, without lating his gaze glaze over to something else than Monty’s face. He rubs his thumb over the back of Monty’s hand. Monty looks tense. “Do you- do you want to go on a date with me?”  


There’s a silence, a tense silence in which Jasper can feel fear uncurl within his chest. Monty hasn’t let go of his hand, but he hasn’t reacted as well. Jasper doesn’t know what is going on in his head.  
Monty blinks.

“Yeah,” he breathes, nodding. Then there’s a smile spreading across his face, and then he’s beaming. Jasper’s heart skips a beat, and _holy shit_ , he’s the one that caused it. “Fuck yes, Jasper Jordan.”  
Jasper can’t fight the grin off his face. He moves to sit upright.

“Can I-?” he asks, and Monty nods. Jasper leans in, pressing a kiss to Monty’s lips. He smiles.  


“So where should I take you?”  


 

* * *

  
Miller: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WENT ICE SKATING WITHOUT ME  
Miller: AGAIN  
Jasper: :)  
Monty: Merry Christmas everyone!  
Miller: merry christmas  
Jasper: and happy holidays!  
Clarke: don’t forget the karaoke battle  
Clarke: now including hot cocao  
Bellamy: and hot neighbors :>  
Murphy: good to know I’m invited  
Miller: SKATING  
Miller: WITHOUT ME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand that's a wrap! I can't guarantee it's actually the end-end of this fic (I mean it's like intended to be 99% fluff, so maybe I'll just make a series out of it?) but it is for now. If you enjoyed it I'd love to hear it! Please leave a comment or a kudo or both
> 
> for now, happy holidays my dears! And of course, a happy new year!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank y'all for reading! I love you! If you liked it, please leave a comment, feel free to share your thoughts!


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